


Necessary Sacrifices

by Magentasouth



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-09 14:56:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 216,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11671398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magentasouth/pseuds/Magentasouth
Summary: Hermione brings Lord Voldemort the Sword of Gryffindor (private challenge fic)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an older story; one of the first I started writing. This also means it's not very good. However i'm including it here as part of moving all of my stories to A03. I'm painfully aware of its flaws. Read it. Don't read it. Like the others, it will be completed in time. I hate leaving things unfinished.

He knew the sword was the only weapon Harry could use to destroy him, but never in his wildest dreams did he believe the little mudblood would bring it to him willingly. 

In truth, the sword had been the farthest thing from his mind this morning.

When Lucius had conveyed the message from his son that “the mudblood, Granger” had requested an audience with him he had thought it an order plot, another machination of the old fool.   
He had almost rejected the request on that basis alone – any information she might be forced to provide would be inevitably suspect...   
...but the thought of defiling and destroying Potter’s little friend..  
...or girlfriend?   
At one or two points he had tasted the boy’s dreams about her. They had been crude and naive but suggestive of the boy’s feelings for the bushy haired girl, flavoured as they were with the sharp desperation of youth. He had begun in earnest to seek information on the girl after those dreams. 

However, surely the chit was not his girlfriend if she was here now.

Unless she was here to beg for his miserable little life – that would explain the offering of Gryffindor’s sword.. but then... one as intelligent as she was reputed to be would never delude herself into imagining he might be merciful to the boy foretold to kill him!

Had the boy done something to bring her running to him?   
A delightful notion.. but entirely improbable. Why run to him?! His very campaign was centred on the destruction of her kind. 

No matter. He would learn why she sought him out soon enough.   
The thought of getting his hands on her had been sufficiently pleasant to warrant a small risk.   
A very small risk.   
He had gone to great lengths to protect himself this evening. The girl had voluntarily met Malfoy’s son off Hogwarts grounds on a Hogsmeade day, at nine in the morning. She had allowed herself to be side-along apparated into the unknown – after a number of intermediate jumps arriving in this place.   
It was..nowhere. Nowhere in particular. A factory in a dreary northern England town - temporary, if unusually elaborately prepared. It would be burned when he was finished with the evening’s entertainment.

The wards were verging on overkill, extending out in layers for several hundred metres on all sides of the deserted structure in a dead industrial district.   
Not only was the site under the fidelius, but it bore anti-portkey and selective apparition wards keyed to blood; and he had invited only a few select inner circle members to this morning’s gathering in the dingy grey room. 

There would be no unexpected order members dropping in to interrupt them and if Potter tried to follow the girl here he’d be a dead fool soon enough. No living thing that did not bear his mark could survive outside the small chalked circle in which the girl knelt, which suppressed her magic even as it exerted a low constant thrum in her nerves – moderate enough to allow her to communicate, yet sufficient to faintly discomfort her.

Lucius and his son stood to the right of the mudblood , wands drawn on the girl, while the three Lestranges, Avery and Mulciber filled the remaining periphery around her, equally prepared to let fly curses at his word; and from Bella’s twitching and shifting from foot to foot, she was already chomping at the bit for his word. 

The small girl shook like autumns last leaf - whether from pain or fear, her hands around the pommel and blade of the sword she still held proffered, like an offering to a dark deity.

The unexpectedness of her gift aside, he wanted the sword urgently. It was all he could do to prevent himself from lowering the physical wards surrounding her and summoning it immediately.

She had drawn it from an impossibly small bag she had suddenly had in her hand and even as his mind was unwinding in unexpected pleasure at the welcome surprise of the object that might turn the course of this war irrevocably in his favour, he was perturbed that she should have had the chance to bring potentially threatening objects into his presence.   
Lucius, it seemed, had realised the same thing. His posture had visibly stiffened and although he had not dropped to his knees, choosing instead to hold his wand trained on the small unworthy creature, the unwelcome anticipation of inevitable punishment had tightened his face.

 

 

Lucius growled in frustration internally, once again disappointed in the dear fruit of his loins.   
To shame him..again..in front of the Dark Lord! His initiation had been a poor enough showing; the boy had hesitated for long minutes over the kill and then had screamed and wept like a schoolmaid when he was marked.

He was certain it was the damned Black-family blood that made Draco so weak and foolish... after all, look at his mother – an insipid woman if ever there was one...entirely oblivious of events occurring around her, fearful, prudish and fit only for spending galleons.   
She was stingy in her duties to him, but quick to arouse to passion by the many men she betrayed him with, he had observed it through some of the hidden peepholes in the manor. 

Then there was Bella – mad, like a dog continually slavering after a bone; too weak to control her own desire.   
Any desire. She had bedded half the death eaters and more besides. Male, female – it made little difference when she sought relief.   
Her primary outlet, of course, was inflicting pain and she took her pleasure wherever she could, as often as possible. It was a wonder she hadn’t cruciated the mudblood yet – he warranted it would only be another minute or so before she lost control of herself and widdled on the carpet, metaphorically speaking.   
The other black siblings were blood traitors both. He would not allow Draco to take after his mother’s disgraceful family. Damn his own father for binding their family to them in the first place.   
He would have to take much closer interest in his son’s progress, he realised. It might not be too late to steer things back onto course with him.

“Lucius.. your son has been lax in his preparations. We will discuss this matter later.” 

Lucius nodded grimly “Yes My Lord” and Draco, at his side swallowed. His wand shook slightly as he steeled himself and glared down at the mudblood that had caused him to shame himself again.   
Bitch. Fucking Bitch... She hadn’t laid a hand on him and it was fourth year all over again. 

He would bleed when his father got him back to the manor.   
From the way his lips were pressed into a thin white line he was going to curse seven shades of shit out of him tonight. 

Draco looked down at Granger, who still trembled and held the sword. How had she even hidden that bag?! He had told her not to bring anything. He had checked her.   
He’d cast three revelio spells and even slid his hands all over her body patting her down.   
She hadn’t had anything. Not even a wand. And her body had been so hot and firm and- ..   
He cut that thought off. She was filth. Worthless filthy little piece of dirt. She wasn’t fuckable – she was vermin. And now she was earning him another beating.   
She was earning him the derision of the one man whose respect he most coveted: his father. Everything was for him – everything!   
Potter.. the Dark Mark.. Granger.. everything. 

Why couldn’t she have just trotted along quietly like a nice little lamb and let the Dark Lord fucking kill her without any fuss?!   
His father would have received accolades and he would have looked upon his son with pride.   
He would have really seen him.

His father was always absent and when he was there he was so distant.. preoccupied with far more important things..like some god on Olympus’ mount.. always just out of reach, no matter how much you might pray and sacrifice.   
Draco would have done anything to have all of his attention... even if just for a while.

 

 

The Dark Lord observed the thoughts of his servant and the man’s son with mild irritation. He was under no illusions about just who the foppish boy truly served in his heart. The puerile little twit practically broadcasted his desperate need on all channels.   
The only reason that he hadn’t truly taken him to task over it was that Lucius was an extremely useful man whose only weakness, unbeknownst to himself, was his son. 

He provided financial resources, ministry of magic connections, he was a gifted wizard and a merciless killer, hell.. at times he was entertaining.. but Voldemort had seen it in the deepest corner of his mind - there was one thing and one thing only that might turn the debauched aristocrat from his service, and that was an existential threat to this long streak of piss at his side.   
It was simply a variable he worked with. 

When Draco failed, as he was wont to do, the Dark Lord usually preferentially punished Lucius for the failure and let him pass the buck or not as he chose. It really made no difference to him when he was irate who suffered for the error and besides.. Lucius was a more enjoyable candidate. 

On the few occasions that he had cruciated Draco, the boy had screamed immediately and slipped into unconsciousness far too quickly. It was rather a waste. Like a premature ejaculation on some level.   
Lucius on the other hand – Lucius would endure stoically for as long as he could before vocalising his pain.   
It made the experience far more satisfying when he finally did drive the dignified man to screaming..sobbing.. begging. 

He turned his attention back to the small figure kneeling in the circle, the silvery blade in her hands. 

Slowly he stalked closer, flicking his wand to raise the dingy light in the dim room. He wanted to see her.   
The girls arms were obviously tiring from holding the heavy sword and she swallowed fearfully and reverentially lowered it to the ground beside her, resting back on her heels and looking up at his face with an expression of trepidation.

He inspected her critically.   
A petite frame, just beginning to show the curves of womanhood, Brown curly hair barely under control, caramel eyes.   
Her dark blue robes were fitted but neutral – flattering but not drawing attention to her.   
She wore no ornamentation, no make-up, her nails were short but did not look bitten.

She was altogether too calm for her current position. 

He did not see adult pureblood wizards in his own service gaze upon him with such composure.   
A mudblood child affiliated with his enemy should be incoherent with fear.   
It was entirely unacceptable to see her restrained trepidation even if it did perhaps arouse his curiosity just a fraction.

 

“Filthy Mudblood whore! – how dare you look upon the Dark Lord! CRUCIO!” Bellatrix screeched, apparently having reached a similar conclusion - as always unable to restrain herself. 

He watched with resigned impatience as the mudblood crashed to the ground and writhed, panting but, as yet, silent.   
Bellatrix danced up on her toes, obviously deriving physical pleasure from her curse.

After a minute, and still no screams, he spoke mildly “Bella...”

Bellatrix, chastened, dropped the curse and simpered at him.   
He looked at her with an even measured stare. He had not given her permission to curse the chit yet and she knew it ...but Bella had always been very protective of him.   
Not to say fanatical.. obsessed.   
He had passed her off on Rodolphus many years ago for that very reason.   
Bellatrix was a capable enough witch, inventive in her way, certainly loyal.. but she was not worthy of his physical affections.   
Her blunted mind and bludgeon of a personality overwhelmed any visual charms she might once have possessed.   
A decade of futile pursuit had not dimmed the glow of adoration in her eyes, nonetheless.

He would deal with her later. There were other subtle punishments more suited to the twisted black haired woman than physical torture. 

The small figure was struggling up off her side slowly, back onto her knees. 

He would not display it but he was impressed. She had made a better showing of herself than many of his servants. Bellatrix’ cruciatus was well honed. It was not a small matter to remain silent beneath it. 

The girl lifted her angular little face and looked up at him again, fearful but determined.   
He held a hand up to still Bella, who had already leapt forward to curse her again.

What an interesting child. 

“Hermione Granger...” he said softly. “I have heard a great many things about you...”   
He watched her eyes widen with an expression that did not look as horrified as he expected. 

He continued.. “I am quite aware of your academic and magical aptitudes – the highest OWLs in almost fifty years, my ministry contacts tell me...  
...I am also aware of your ..rather hypocritical rule breaking proclivities – the children of my servants have reported you to be an officious little swot dictating the rules to them constantly ..but Severus tells me you lie..steal..curse as it suits you..whenever you feel you will not be caught.   
Draco here even claims that you were the one who led poor headmistress Umbrage into the forbidden forest ..and we all know how that ended.” 

The blond fop on her right sneered at her and he was amused to see her lower her eyes. Her cheeks flushed slightly in shame or guilt.   
Clearly it was true! How lovely! The repugnant woman had died and the little mudblood was apparently somehow responsible for it. 

He went on with a nasty smile “I have been well informed as to who you call friend or acquaintance, child...  
...and where you and they...are commonly to be found.   
Incidentally, whatever did you do with your muggle parents? Their house and practice has been conspicuously abandoned for the last few months. The aurors have even ceased to guard it. All of the family photographs are gone.. I was most disappointed.” 

The girl’s eyes widened even more at the thought that he had been inside her house.   
Technically he hadn’t - he had had two of his more pedantic expendable recruits go through the place and had sampled their memories. 

“Oh yes.. I possess a wealth of information about you, Hermione..   
Nothing I have learned however can account for your apparent sudden decision to end the war in my favour and bring me Potter’s greatest weapon. 

...Somewhat out of character, wouldn’t you agree?... 

How am I to understand this?   
Is the object cursed? Did you intend to use it against me?   
Do enlighten me as to what you hoped to achieve here this morning.   
I can only imagine you sought death, but that does not explain why you saw fit to condemn your friends..”

 

Hermione looked up at the serpentine figure looming over her on the far side of the wards. 

All her hours of research; the brief glimpse of the back of him she had had across the foyer of the Ministry of Magic last year, before he vanished in a whirlwind; even her most ambitious imaginings...had not prepared her for this man..this..entity... for he was scarcely man at all. 

His skin was marble-white and unnaturally smooth, stretched over the bones of his skull.   
He was impossibly tall and slender, wrapped in expansive black robes of silk and when he moved he almost seemed to drift, unfettered by gravity.   
His gestures were sinuform and understated.. His entire being was terribly, frighteningly, graceful in fact - right down to the delicate manner in which he held his wand at his side, caressing it absently with a thin white finger.   
His wand looked like a twisted bone. It was as pale as he.

But the most shocking aspect of him, the most inhuman aspect was clearly his face. 

She had known of his appearance before coming here.. she had been researching Lord Voldemort.. or rather - the Dark Lord - as she’d come to think of him, for four years now after all.   
But in person.. it was different. 

His face actually offended reason.   
It hurt the mind to look upon him. 

The red eyes were frighteningly alien.. the utter absence of a nose, in favour of slender reptilian slits was like something out of a surreal dream. And he had a kind of...gravity.. an energy to him that was captivating; hard to look away from.   
He was so much..more.. close-up in person than in the descriptions of Harry or the recorded information she could lay hands on. Closer to what Ginny had described when she had finally persuaded the girl to open up to her about the Tom Riddle in the diary. 

She stared up at him, quite hypnotised.   
He wasn’t handsome, like Ginny had described his younger form and she had verified in the prefects photographs from 1945.. not at all.   
Handsome was not a word that could be applied to this gestalt..   
But he was attractive in some peculiar way; a way that defied analysis. 

Perhaps it was simply the idea of him, she wondered. 

When she had begun her research she had thought it would be useful to understand the foe. She had imagined she might find a weakness if she looked hard enough.   
But searching out more and more information, in both the wizarding and the muggle records, she had started to build an image of an actual person. He had ceased to be the two dimensional bogeyman and become something more. 

He was indisputably the most powerful wizard alive today. She was almost certain that he was more powerful than professor Dumbledore, despite the headmaster’s advanced age, and had been for some time.   
This man probably knew more across a wider range of disciplines than any other in the world. 

In her fourth year when she had learned that Tom Riddle had once sought a teaching position at Hogwarts she had fantasised for a while about how it might have been to have such a man for a teacher.   
Not that the teachers at Hogwarts were not gifted.. but..she supposed by that point she had already begun to feel a little differently about the entire notion of Tom Riddle. 

When she was a child she had been attracted to appearances.. but the debacle in second year with Gilderoy Lockhart had illustrated how ridiculous it was to value a handsome face over substance. She had found herself in near pole-shift, dreaming about Professor Snape – who although not the most conventionally handsome man, was certainly the most gifted and knowledgeable man in his field; not merely an expert but a genius.

She realised it was silly to have a thing for professors.. for teachers... It was irrational.   
She supposed it had to do with what she personally found arousing. 

There was nothing more exciting to her than knowledge, intellect, skill, ability and.. yes even...power.   
She fantasised about teachers because she liked to look up at her desired. She liked to feel they were more powerful.. she liked to be in their power.   
She knew it and felt herself stupid. 

Knowing that it was foolish changed nothing whatsoever though. 

This man.. this man was the ultimate end of that spectrum. The most powerful teacher imaginable. 

From the moment in fourth year when she had started to fantasize about him as her DADA teacher, she had probably been lost.   
The fantasies shifted and soon in her mind he was not teaching her defense against dark arts but the dark arts themselves..  
It was really a very small shift.   
She felt it highly probable that if Tom Riddle had been given the position as DADA teacher, it would have been a short time until there was a secret dark arts club under his tutelage anyway. 

The fantasy shifted from taking his classes, to being in such a club, to being in one-on-one tuition with him.. and then, without noticing the shift she was just dreaming about being with him. 

It all got out of hand and she felt awful most of the time. She felt like she was betraying Harry, betraying Professor Dumbledore, betraying everything she believed in, just because she was thinking of this man with what she could no longer deny was desire.   
She felt like someone would find out... 

There was something wrong with her, obviously.   
When Harry would gasp and clutch at his scar in pain she would experience a weird little frisson of excitement. It felt like he was nearer in those moments. 

And then at some point she had thought.. what would happen when Professor Dumbledore finally managed to manipulate Harry into a position somehow where he might defeat this great wizard.   
That was, after all, what they were all working toward.   
That was what she had been working toward in her research..surely – even if she had in the end, never shared any of it with Harry as she had initially planned to.

What would happen when Tom Riddle was defeated..was dead – permanently this time?! 

She knew she should want that – how could she possibly not want that?! The man had people killed, daily, for nothing whatsoever.. for the crime of having the wrong parentage.   
He would kill her if he had the chance.   
Her impression of him was skewed by her own ridiculous fetishes and probably to some degree by her loneliness. Nevertheless she couldn’t quite manage to truly desire his death. On some entirely reprehensible level she felt very confused about the idea of Harry defeating him. 

Harry was in many ways a wonderful person and he was magically very talented – she just wasn’t sure how much of his raw talent came from his own innate skills and how much was bestowed upon him by Tom Riddle when he gave him his scar.   
His parents had both been quite capable magically but nothing like as strong as Harry – and there was the parseltongue thing. He should not have been able to speak it – there were no parselmouths in his lineage.   
If that was a token of Tom Riddle’s influence upon his magic, then what else might he have gained? 

In all probability, without intervention, Harry would have been a mediocre wizard. He was not particularly learned in any subject, with the exception of flying perhaps. He did make an effort for DADA but even there his breadth of knowledge was lacking. He had magical potency but little real understanding..little application of his mental faculties. He went through his life like a pinball in a machine, bouncing off the bumpers and being channelled down this or that path by outside forces. 

She had tried to explain to him logically why Professor Snape deserved respect and he brushed it aside.   
She had tried to point out each and every rational inconsistency in Professor Dumbledore’s behaviour toward him – why he should be careful in trusting the man, and all that had resulted was Harry throwing a snit and refusing to talk to her for a fortnight.   
So she had stopped.   
She had simply ceased trying to help him to take control of his life – she had ceased trying to chase after him and talk him around to seeing reason.   
She had just stopped bothering. 

The idea of intelligent, probably psychotic but extraordinarily talented and powerful Tom Riddle dying at the hand of churlish, impulsive, kind yet undeniably Dumbledore’s sock-puppet, Harry Potter, grated against her. 

Leaving the pureblood agenda aside (it didnt quite make sense to her to begin with in light of Tom Riddles own parentage), looking at the two wizards in contrast and what they might achieve in their lifetimes.. it was clear.   
Harry was a good kind boy and if left to his own devices he might become an auror perhaps (which was nice.. in its way, she supposed. Society needed aurors. They didnt actually..advance wizarding kind..much.. but they were quite necessary) and he would marry and reproduce and grow old and die. Probably without every really contributing anything more than having erased Tom Riddle from the world.   
Tom, on the other hand, if he prevailed, and ignoring the whole.. blood purity crusade, would without a doubt develop spells, potions, uncover lost knowledge, translate languages unattainable to others, experiment and further wizarding kind’s knowledge. Generations might benefit from his contributions.   
If he succeeded in his quest for immortality – and it seemed like he was doing a fairly passable job since the man was currently a seventy year old, looked half that and had been killed at least three times already - he might continue to contribute to the pool of wizarding knowledge for a very long time. 

In essence his contribution to humanity and to the wizarding world, despite the horrible things he had done and continued to do, was infinitely greater than Harry’s. 

The viewpoint made her nervous.   
She felt it was wrong to think in this manner. Bad.. wrong.. wrong to see the world in terms of power and utility. She should be viewing things in terms of moral rights and wrongs..   
...but to be honest, she had always been less morally bound than her two closest friends.   
Harry was always their moral compass.   
Hermione would come up with ideas and if they required group participation she would imagine what Harry might say when she was deciding whether or not to run the plan by the others.   
Left to her own devices she had no qualms about doing some rather reprehensible things in the pursuit of her goals.   
The sorting hat had first offered her Slytherin but in light of her parentage, and since Harry had seemed quite nice on the train, she had asked for Gryffindor.   
But she had done several things that, objectively seen, might be considered by some to be quite bad, she admitted to herself.   
Aside from what had happened to Dolores Umbrage (she had deserved it!), for most of last year she had kept Rita Skeeter in her beetle animagus form in a jar. Marietta Edgecombe would wear the visible scars of her betrayal on her face for the rest of her life. Hermione had deliberately used a curse without a counter in that case. She had once obliviated a third year who caught her using her time turner.   
She was no saint. 

Half the things she had done, she could never tell Harry about, for fear of his reaction. 

Harry knew she could be a holy terror when it came to forcing Ron and himself to study.. but he still seemed to insist upon viewing her as some sweet untouchable flower.   
He tried to leave her out of anything that sounded remotely dangerous, whenever he could.   
It irritated her. She was a more skilled duelist than he.   
And.. and she wasn’t untouchable, damn it!

 

Lord Voldemort watched her mind circle around itself. So much desire, guilt and resentment – he had suppressed the visible manifestation of his utter shock that the girl had quite apparently come for him..

The strange little junior sociopath had apparently, one sunny day while she sat on the grass (with a transfiguration text two years more advanced than the current stand of her classes) and watched Potter and the other ridiculous little children fly around on brooms whooping and yelling, made the executive decision to jump the ship of fools. 

He could see the memory.   
She had been so frustrated with the endless wasted time and constant stream of idiocy and had dreamed again of how it might be to be truly challenged... To learn great things, rather than merely be utilised as a means of keeping Harry and Ronald on track in classes; correcting their homework, practically writing their essays for them –thinking for them constantly in their scheming. No matter how she tried, they both continued to do foolish things. 

She had been thinking of him again, and for once she had allowed herself to imagine whether it might be possible to actually enact her desires; whether she might be able to come to him somehow. She had theorised about the possibility of stealing the sword of Gryffindor with the calculated hope that he might allow her to live for bringing him such a valuable object.

Slipping through her memories of the intervening time, he was inordinately pleased.   
Her plan had been flawless and even more delightfully, she had used the imperius with no more hesitation than she might use a confundus. It was deemed useful and necessary and she carried it out automatically.

She had researched and planned the timing very carefully, waiting (with some kind of map that showed the location of persons within Hogwarts) for Dumbledore and Harry to be elsewhere.   
When they had both departed the school grounds, she had wrapped an imperiused first year in Harry’s invisibility cloak and flooed her into the Headmaster’s chambers through the grate in Pomona Sprout’s chambers.   
A large portion of her months of planning had apparently been taken up with checking which teachers had the weakest wards, cracking the herbology professors inadequate defense arrangements, transfiguring a duplicate sword from a silver sculpture in the room of requirement, imbuing it with false magical signatures as best she was able and locating a spell that detected founder’s objects. 

When she had via a mask and the floo, remotely steered a tiny invisibility cloaked first year to use the charm and had found the sword warded in behind a portrait she had pulled the attempt, taken the small girl’s memories and obliviated her.   
On her next attempt a month later she had successfully retrieved the sword, placed it inside the tiny bag she had brought with her, erected dampening, disapparition and notice me not charms and had hidden it in the room of requirement. 

It was, he estimated, a patient and well considered plan.   
She had alibis for each event and had covered her tracks well when researching. 

What a pity the chit could likely not be persuaded to simply eliminate potter.   
He presumed that if she had been amenable to doing so, she would have already done so. Bringing him the sword was the next best thing; a non-confrontational sabotage of Harry Potter’s destiny.

He should not be so surprised, he supposed. She was tainted with moral baggage and guilt through the poor company she had been keeping – but he had tasted the darkness in her mind.   
What might she do.. what might she become in a more permissive environment? 

Admittedly, her blood was not ideal..keeping her alive would not sit well with his followers. 

But it was problematic only in an instrumental sense. He had himself never been foolish enough to place worth on blood. It was the continual whine of the pureblood aristocracy.   
In his formative years he had built his most influential and valuable contacts within that environment by playing on those old strings of fear and prejudice. It was quite simply too late to abandon the core of his campaign now.   
Nevertheless he knew that while purebloods were frequently quite capable – take Lucius and the Lestranges as a case in point, half bloods were where the true brilliance tended to occur.   
He thought again about Severus and what a shame it was that events had unfolded as they had. The man was a genius.

At the end of the day.. it was not where you came from, but where you were going.   
He was not entirely certain where the girl might go.   
In all likelihood to an early death if she proved troublesome, but for the moment his interest was piqued.   
Bringing him the sword of Gryffindor was a gamble.. She certainly had courage.   
He decided he was going to keep her for the moment, no matter what anyone might say.

 

“I am waiting for your answer, child..” he prompted with only the faintest razor edge behind the words. 

She swallowed and looked up at him wide eyed. “I..I realised.. that is.. I thought..” she faltered.   
He suppressed a smirk. Perhaps she only had balls when it came to non confrontational situations.   
Even better. Her discomfort was satisfying.   
At that moment she seemed to internally pull herself up by her bootstraps.

“With the greatest respect..I am no child...I want to serve you... please let me serve you.. my Lord”

Her voice was soft and breathy and affected him more than he felt it should. 

He was unsurprised at the expletive that issued from the other female in the room. With a flick of his wand he banished Bella to his chambers as the woman leapt forward seeking to curse the chit for a third time against his expressed will.   
He did not not miss the quickly hidden smirk that flitted across Lucius face at seeing himself proven correct about her behaviour, or the equally swiftly sublimated frown that Rodolphus flashed before moving slightly to even the circle in her absence. 

With a series of complex flicks, sketches and twists of his wand he pulled the wards down around the circle the girl resided in, rendering the room safe for her. The death eaters arranged around her seemed to redouble their focus.

He spoke softly, his head tilted slightly, appraising the small girl at his feet.   
“If that is so, show me your respect.”

The girl frowned slightly but he could tell it was not disapproval, merely confusion. She did not know what he wanted her to do. 

“Come to me” he instructed. 

She crawled on her hands and knees to his feet.   
He approved. Had she tried to stand, he would have punished her. 

“You may first show your devotion by kissing my robes, ...Hermione.” 

The girl immediately leaned down, curling herself prostrate before him and pressing her lips to the hem of his robes. The expression on her face was painfully perfect. It seemed to flicker between ecstatically pleased and wretchedly guilt stricken. 

He felt a faint stirring in him where usually was quiescence. 

He probed lightly at her mind and what he found there definitely added to the warm pressure at his groin. The girl was imagining orally pleasuring him. Her dark aching desire was intermingled with sharp strands of guilt and self recrimination. 

He smirked and released the catch on his robes, drawing them apart sufficiently to free his cock, now hard and insistent.   
“And now-” he instructed her “-you may show your devotion in the manner most appropriate to those of your blood status.” 

He looked down at the curly haired almost-child with glittering-red half-lidded eyes, catching in the periphery the shocked, off-balance expressions exchanged among his servants. 

It was to be expected.   
This was not usual.   
He had not cruciated this mudblood- not even once, in fact he had pulled Bellatrix off her thrice and now he was inviting her to partake in his flesh?!   
Only Lucius had ever seen him enjoy sexual favors with either sex and that was some time ago; many years certainly.

It was not that he did not indulge.. he did occasionally.. but never in front of the others and the unions invariably ended in a bloodbath.   
Literally. He found the liquid very soothing on his skin in this form and had made a habit of bleeding out his toys and bathing in their blood mixed with hot water.   
By the time he bled them, his partners were usually only too happy to end the pain. His tastes tended to run to extreme sadism with those he considered disposable - and those were the only partners he engaged with.   
But the girl was not to know that..

From her absence of unrestrained proud disbelief she obviously assumed he carried out such a ritual with all those he took into service. 

He watched her lick her lips nervously, rising up on her knees and darting an overawed glance up at his face. He could tell she had not done anything of this nature before.   
The thought of her innocence served to only render him harder and more impatient. 

 

Hermione looked up, wide eyed at the first example of that part of the male body that she had ever seen..  
\- to tell the truth, the first example that she had ever truly fantasized about seeing too. 

She freely admitted that she was out of her depth. She had no idea how to please a man – it hadn’t even crossed her mind.. Logic had dictated that if she were not killed outright for her presumption in contacting Lord Voldemort through Draco, some form of horrible abuse would be likely, but she had assumed that would probably be at the hands of others though.   
This was beyond what she’d dared to expect –

She wished she were able to please him. 

She had not wanted to approach any of the boys at Hogwarts – she had not dared to proposition Professor Snape. But to be faced with the prospect of.. of satisfying Tom.. of performing oral sex for the first time upon the Dark Lord himself...she suddenly wished she’d been more of a slut.   
She hadn’t expected to have the chance to actually touch the object of her debauched little fantasies.. and now the worst thing she could imagine in the world was failing in this.

She reached up, shooting a nervous glance up at the serpentine face watching her with low burning lust in his unnatural eyes. He appeared to be acquiescent to her touching him..there.. with her hands.   
She hesitantly stroked her barest fingertips over the pale skin of the organ currently slightly above eye level.   
She almost imagined the man had shivered at her touch. 

His penis was as intimidating as he himself. It was long and pale and thick. Like something carved from stone. His skin felt slightly cooler than she expected. She stroked her fingernails up his shaft and heard his breath catch. 

“You are trying my patience, mudblood” he muttered. 

She flinched and leaned in, pressing her lips to the hairless base of his penis, inhaling slightly out of curiosity, taking in his scent.   
He smelled strange.. a mix of different scents.. something like dry leaves or pressed flowers overlaid with a slight spiciness.. not at all similar to how Harry and Ron smelled after quiddich.   
She found she liked it. 

Flicking her tongue out experimentally she found he tasted of nothing in particular; very faint saltiness but it was not unpleasant.   
Relieved she began to lick up his length in earnest, bathing him with the flat and the point of her tongue alternately and sucking the side of his shaft here and there.   
He sighed almost inaudibly and she felt his posture shift.   
Apparently she was not yet displeasing him. 

When he was nicely slicked she turned her attention to the head of his penis. She kissed the tip of it and flickered her tongue over the underside.   
His breathing changed again and she flinched as she felt his fingers delve into her hair behind her head and tighten. He urged her forward and there was no mistaking the instruction.   
She licked her lips and parted them, taking the head of his cock into her mouth and sucking.

 

The girl was understandably nervous, he observed, but was taking to felatio like a duck to water.   
She was exploratory and appeared to enjoy this. If he were not quite as impatient, it might be interesting to see what she would come up with on her own.

He fisted his hand in her curls and dragged her forward. She seemed to get the picture and took him into her mouth.   
When she sucked on the head of his cock he nearly groaned in pleasure, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. 

It would not do to lose control like that, but she felt divine.. her mouth was so deliciously hot and slick, her untutored tongue delightful. He thrust against her lightly. 

He felt he should probably be brutalizing her mouth, choking her on his length as was expected..but he found he preferred that the little mudblood enjoy this experience. Her surprise and awe at being allowed to touch him was like a delicious little tingle in his mind.   
She wanted to be here on her knees before him. She wanted his cock in her mouth, although the shame at her own desire stabbed at her.   
The girl worshipped him almost against her own will. It was magnificent.

The one thing that might possibly increase his pleasure at this moment, as the girl began to try to take him deeper (clearly having difficulty coordinating sucking, swirling and flicking her tongue while preventing heself from gagging when he hit the back of her throat) would be if Harry Potter and his puppet-master could watch while the Gryffindor darling eagerly swallowed his length.   
He knew for a fact, whatever had or had not passed between them, Potter desired the chit.

How beautiful would it be to watch in his eyes the rage war with horror and loss?! 

At that thought he did moan softly and Hermione, spurred by this amazing sound that the man above her had emitted, redoubled her efforts to try to make him repeat it.   
He opened his eyes and looked down upon her once again and began to guide her with the hand in his hair, adjusting her rhythm and pulling her deeper.   
She gagged once or twice but he gave her no quarter. The wet shimmer of her eyes was pleasing to him.   
“Look at me..” he murmured and she did, turning her eyes up to meet his own. There was still that strange innocent longing in them. It was intensely arousing and he began to fuck her mouth harder.   
She did her best to keep up with his relentless thrusting. 

When she suddenly seemed to catch on and sucked harder, compressing her mouth with the flat of her tongue he hissed in pleasure at her “Yesss.. like that.. good girl...”   
It was less than a minute before he expressed a long guttural groan and spilled himself deep in her throat, his hand holding her tight against him.   
He held her there in his afterglow until he felt her swallow around him. At that he stroked her head as if he were petting an animal. 

He felt inordinately relaxed and generous. It had been an eminently satisfying climax.   
“Very good..little mudblood.” He murmured. “you have pleased me”   
He withdrew his softening penis from her lips and put himself away, refastening his robe. 

The small smile of wonder on the girl’s face was gratifying. It seemed pleasing him pleased her greatly.   
Perhaps he would allow her to please him further later. 

He looked up absently at the various expressions on the faces of his servants.   
Avery and Mulciber seemed focussed on the girl, no doubt anticipating that she would be turned over to the others shortly. 

They would be disappointed. He was not finished with her and he did not share. 

The Lestrange brothers wore twin expressions of dismay.   
Dismay was not strong enough – they were aghast. 

He supposed it was not so much the fact that their distant and untouchable Master had had a girl in front of them.. or even that it was a mudblood, but the manner in which he’d had her.   
It had almost certainly been apparent to all that the pleasure in the act was mutual.   
That, in and of itself, was very nearly a taboo.   
Mudbloods and muggles were not here for their own pleasure – they were here to be tortured and brutalized.. they were here to be punished for having the gall to exist in the first place. 

Lucius, he noted, had schooled his face into a neutral expression. His mind was noticeably silent.   
Apparently he had thoughts about what he had just seen; thoughts of a nature that warranted occlusion.   
His son, Draco, seemed more in tune with Avery and Mulciber. It seemed that now the Dark Lord himself had declared the mudblood suitable sport, he was aching for a turn.   
He too would be disappointed.   
Perhaps when he was finished with the chit he might give her to them...if he chose to let her live...

 

Hermione reeled. She had just given Lord Voldemort a blowjob.   
The phrase didn’t make any more sense if repeated.   
It seemed there was no rational line that could be traced between sitting in arithmancy yesterday and her current position on her knees at the feet of this man.

Correspondingly, she felt irrationally pleased with herself. 

When he spoke she jumped slightly. He was once again the embodiment of authority. 

 

“Lucius, I will see you in my chambers directly. Your son is excused, as are the rest of you, my servants.   
You will keep the events of this meeting to yourselves. You will not speak of them to your wives or your fellow death eaters, you will not discuss among yourselves what has transpired this morning – you would do best not to so much as think of this meeting loudly in an empty room. 

Should I discover that any other has learned of the mudblood’s presence today, you shall all taste my anger. The girl is as yet undiscovered by the order – and as such, a valuable tool.   
See that it remains that way.

 

The four men on the left of the room bowed slightly and apparated away.   
Draco too snapped off a hasty bow and with a final confused look at Hermione and anxious look at his father, disapparated.   
Lucius waited. He would not disapparate until his Lord was safely away from this site. 

 

“Rise...Hermione” the Dark Lord commanded softly as he summoned the Sword of Gryffindor.   
It did not seem to like being held by him. There was a whine of tension in the air like a noise beyond the audible range when his hand closed around it. 

She climbed to her feet with as much grace as she could muster.   
Even standing, she was still forced to crane her head back to look up at the pale man before her. 

“Closer, my dear. Unless you wish to be splinched”

She stepped closer still.   
Now their robes were touching.   
From here, she thought, if she were to tilt her head back and rise up on her toes she could place a kiss to the man’s jaw..   
...theoretically. Not that she would.. but it would be logistically possible, that’s all. 

She lowered her eyes again, focusing on the silken chest before her. The Dark Lord’s arms enfolded her and pulled her closer still, till she was forced to turn her head and lean it upon his chest.   
Trying not to show how pleased she felt at being this close to the man the entire world feared, she gingerly wrapped her own arms around his waist and held on.   
His body felt firm beneath the layers. 

She felt bizarrely peaceful in this embrace, even if she knew it was just for the side along apparition.   
It felt right to be exactly where she was. Wrong as that must be. 

A moment later the sharp compression point of apparition snapped them away.


	2. Chapter 2

Lucius stood a moment in the wake of the Dark Lord’s disapparition. What had just happened?!   
He was stunned, numbed by the events he had just witnessed. 

He tried to convince himself that the Dark Lord had not truly desired the skinny little mudblood child but it could not be ignored how he had gazed upon her; the uncharacteristic restraint he had displayed. 

This was very nearly incomprehensible. 

He recalled everything that Draco had ever said about the girl.   
His son had been complaining of her for years now, he recognised vaguely.

He wanted to discuss this with Severus.. deeply, urgently he wished to apparate to his oldest friend and disburden himself of the uncertainty that now plagued him. However, to do so would be to invite the harshest of punishments, he was well aware. 

He began going about the cleansing charms in the room, ridding it of any trace of dark magic. 

The girl had been tolerably pleasant to look upon and from what the Dark Lord had said she was quite intelligent.   
Extremely intelligent, if you will...but she was unclean.   
Surely if his master were to select a sexual partner, he would choose one of the highest birth.   
He had known of the witches the Dark Lord had taken before. He had known that they did not survive the night – but they were all witches. Halfbloods and purebloods. Not a muggle or mudblood among them.   
To tell the truth he had considered that the dark lord might be homosexual and repressing his tendencies, taking out his frustration upon the females he took to his bed. The only person he knew of to have engaged with his master and lived was the very man he most desired to speak with at this moment. 

Severus had been a beautiful man in his twenties, though he never realised it. He had had something of the night about him.   
Although he had been tormented and ridiculed in school, when he had grown into his height, his muscles firmed from the frequent raids and revels, he had become a stunning creature visually.. and formidable.. merciless but not unprincipled. He did not torture children. He would not take a victims innocence if he could avoid doing so.   
Those provisos aside, he was cruelly inventive in his torture and a proficient and passionate lover.

They had been fiery together many years ago, so fascinated with the wonders of one another’s bodies, and it was in the midst of that fire that the Dark Lord had chosen to sample Severus for himself.   
Lucius had always wondered whether he had done it purely to spite him, for his lover had never quite been the same again..   
He was never quite as open. He looked at him differently.

He recalled that night when they had both been summoned, watching Severus’ head bobbing at the Dark Lord’s groin while his master looked into Lucius own eyes with dark malevolent joy. 

When he had come, he did not release Lucius’ lover, but instead commanded him into his chambers.   
He did not emerge for several days and when he did he was changed. 

They had remained together... in a way.. but it was not the same. 

These days they were simply very close friends. It had been months since he had last approached the potions master for a tryst. They were like an old couple in some ways, he mused.   
There was no living person he trusted more than Severus.   
This made it all the more distressing that he could not go to him with his thoughts now. 

He apparated outside the factory building and cast several small incendios, feeding the flames until the entire structure was roaring before apparating away.

 

 

Hermione recovered from the queasiness of the apparition. She had always hated side-along apparition for that reason. It felt as if your stomach travelled slightly out of sync with the rest of your body.   
She hadn’t let go of the body she was wrapped around but when he stiffened in irritation she flinched and pulled away, lowering her eyes respectfully.   
“Thank you..my Lord” she murmured even as her mind sang. He had described her as valuable. That implied she would not be killed.   
She might have the chance to touch him again at some point, if she had truly pleased him – and she saw no reason why this man would bother with empty flattery to soothe anyone’s feelings. 

There was a spluttering behind her and she glanced up at the incandescent rage of Bellatrix Lestrange, who had leapt up from the chair she had been seated in. 

Hermione took in the peripheral environment and her heart jumped, the awareness of the room very nearly eclipsed the violently angry harriden in the foreground.   
It was a study in muted greens and dark brown leather. Bookcases lined the walls, filled with endless variations of ancient looking leather-bound books. 

She physically ached to go and inspect the titles. 

Bellatrix was nearly imploding under the strain of conflict between her desire to demand an explanation of the Dark Lord and her sense of self preservation which instructed her not to demand anything of the man under any circumstances. 

The figure in question brushed past Hermione at that moment and moved to a large polished hardwood desk, casting a series of complicated spells upon it and revealing a compartment in the surface.   
He retrieved what appeared to be a white silken noose. As he fed the sword through the neck of it, it vanished on the other side.   
When it was gone he untied the silken rope and let it slither back into the recesses of the desk, closing the compartment once more. 

Hermione was fascinated and burned to ask what that spell was. Where had the sword gone?   
At first she had thought it something similar to her own beaded bag but when he had untied the rope..   
Perhaps he had placed it into some kind of intra-dimensional space?   
Her mind pondered the riddle until his faint amusement pulled her awareness back up to his face. 

 

 

He observed the two females with interest. They were so fundamentally different, he noted. 

Bellatrix was nearly apoplectic and the little mudblood was preoccupied with curiosity at the knot-portal he had used. Each of their eyes were alight with thirst for information. 

He tried to pinpoint exactly what was pleasing about one and irritating about the other.   
Bella had, objectively seen, an attractive face.. a desirable body.. as did the little mudblood, certainly. 

“Sit.” He commanded the girl lightly, nodding at the lounge suite behind them both. 

 

Hermione moved to comply immediately, seating herself on the right hand side of the soft brown leather sofa. She would have acted no differently had it been any of her professors instructing her in that brusque tone.   
The surreality of the moment and the enormity of what she had done was striking her.

She was sitting amiably in the Dark Lord’s chambers and the man had not cursed her.

She wondered whether her mind was going to offer a running commentary on everything that occurred here in that same incredulous tone.   
Returning to thoughts of him not cursing her.. the woman who had cursed her was still standing, trembling in emotion.

She wondered if the Dark Lord and Bellatrix were lovers. It would explain the woman’s behaviour, she supposed.   
Well.. it would explain some aspects of it. She was clearly unbalanced.

 

“Bella.. Do you know why I am displeased with you at present?” the Dark Lord enquired, honestly curious whether her mind still apprehended reality.

The woman flinched and with great difficulty, forced herself to lower her eyes.   
“Yes, My Lord. I cursed the mudblood.” 

He rolled his eyes and hardened his expression. “No, Bella. You disobeyed my orders. It is not about the mudblood.   
I instructed you to wait upon my command and you thrice directly disobeyed me.   
I was generous, in light of your years of service to me; I tolerated your transgression the first time, but when you continued to try my patience I was forced to remove you. 

You have shamed yourself, Bella and you have displeased me.   
When I instruct you to do or refrain from doing something, I expect my instructions to be followed. To the letter!” 

Bellatrix’s bottom lip was trembling and she looked up at him with pleading needy eyes, her posture slipping from indignation into one of supplication.   
He raised his wand and flicked a hex at the woman. 

“You will be punished. You shall attain no sexual pleasure until I release you from that hex and I do not wish to see your face until I summon you to me. Go!” 

Bellatrix looked beside herself with misery. She didn’t even glance at Hermione before she disapparated, her arms wrapped around herself and head bowed. 

 

Lord Voldemort blinked and shook his head in a gesture of frustration.   
Hermione watched astounded. Another layer was being added to her richly textured profile of the man – that of a commander infuriated by incompetence.   
From his words to Bellatrix she supposed they were lovers after all.

Irrationally, that thought caused something to pinch slightly in the area of her chest.   
How ridiculous of her; ridiculous on so many different levels.   
She wondered whether Bellatrix was his only lover. She supposed not, if he would send her forth with so little concern.   
She startled as his red eyes turned upon her again suddenly. 

 

He barely restrained himself from raising his eyebrows incredulously. The little chit was jealous.   
In his mind she took another step closer to Bella’s delusional state. 

He was tempted to disabuse her of her illusions when Lucius apparated into the room with a muted crack.   
The girl jumped slightly and lowered her eyes respectfully to the floor. She sat rigidly on the low sofa, knees primly pressed together beneath her robe. 

Lucius glanced at her a moment longer than absolutely necessary before dropping to one knee before him.   
The man was occluding like a champion again. He wondered whether Lucius would be able to resist the temptation of speaking with Severus about this.   
Perhaps it would be better to obliviate him.   
But no - Draco was also aware. There would be little point. 

Perhaps it only mattered if he chose to send the girl back to Hogwarts. He was not decided whether that was the best use for her. Her most obvious value was as a spy in the core of the enemy’s camp.   
Severus allegiances were murky. He had omitted the man from the gathering this morning for that very reason.   
The girl was enamored of him. If he could be assured of her loyalty (fickle, scatty, teenagers notwithstanding) then she could observe Potter, Dumbledore and Severus for him. 

On the other hand.. from what he had seen in her mind, her own guilt could be problematic if he sent her back so soon. There was a small chance that she might break down and confess. 

Conversely, if Lucius went to Severus with his concerns, the girl might be captured.   
She possessed no knowledge of interest to the order or the ministry, but he found that he was discontented with the idea of being unable to fully explore his new acquisition.   
The girl desperately wanted to learn and he was quite tempted to grant her deepest most furtive desire and train her in the dark arts, if only to use her as a weapon against her former friends. 

 

 

Lucius was subdued in his speech. “it is done, my Lord. The building is clean, I left as the first muggle fire service was arriving. Nothing is left of the room that was used.”

Lord Voldemort surveyed the blonde critically.   
“Very good, my servant. However there remains the small matter of your son’s continuing inadequacy.” 

Lucius did not even hesitate. “Yes My Lord. I beg your forgiveness for his failure. I shall impress upon him the severity of his error at the next available opportunity.”

Hermione blinked at the arrogant man she had always found intimidating,   
It was strange to see him on his knees. She wasn’t sure how to feel. 

The Dark Lord stalked slowly closer, looking down upon him predatorially   
“See that you do, Lucius. His failure is your failure. ...Crucio!” 

Hermione twinged reflexively at the sound of the curse. Her muscles still ached from Bellatrix’s curse.   
Lucius had fallen forward and curled now over his knees, silently panting, shaking and twitching violently. He was somehow able to remain on his knees.   
She wondered at how often the man had experienced this curse and whether it became any less painful in time. Could you get used to the cruciatus? 

The Dark Lord changed the angle of his wand and his face tightened in some way as if he were physically driving it down against a resistance and now Lucius did slide to the side, falling down and curling and flexing helplessly, his eyes screwed shut and teeth gritted against what must be horrible agony. 

Hermione felt that she should feel sympathy.. no.. more than that.. she should feel a moral obligation to try to help the man and reduce his pain.   
That was the thing though – it was more something she ‘should’ be doing.. as if a miniature Harry were sitting on her shoulder all the time and instructing her what the morally ‘right’ course of action was.   
Lucius wasn’t being cruciated for the first time and he would no doubt be cruciated many more times with or without her intervention, even if there were anything she could do – which there likely was not.   
Thus rationalised, she attended with great focus to the effect of the curse upon him. 

She wished suddenly that she understood how it worked. 

Why had the Dark Lord adjusted his casting in that manner to increase the strength of the curse?! What other adjustments were possible?! Were all spells like this?   
She realised she had simply not experimented sufficiently with casting. She had always duplicated the correct wandform almost immediately and moved on to the next lesson.   
What if there was a world of variation that she had missed in her impatience?!

 

The Dark Lord was so focused upon the thoughts of the girl that he very nearly forgot about the blonde man writhing under his wand. It took Lucius’ first whimpers to draw his attention away from her. He ended the curse and allowed his servant to pant and twitch in recovery. 

He paused in thought for a moment. 

 

Lucius was under no illusion that his punishment was complete. He knew that his master was never satisfied until he had brought him to the limits of his tolerance. It didn’t matter whether he screamed and simulated – the pain inevitably continued until he reached his true threshold and only then would the dark wizard relent and soothe his agony.   
Not so today apparently. 

He addressed him thoughtfully. “A proposition, my servant. We shall continue until I am satisfied that you have been sufficiently punished.. or you may assist me in a small experiment with the mudblood.   
I wish to see whether she is capable of casting the unforgiveable. You will be the subject of whatever she might cast.   
I give you the choice - If she is unable to cruciate you I shall release you from the remainder of your punishment.” 

The Dark Lord turned and looked at Hermione again speculatively, stroking his wand absently with a fingertip.   
She looked startled and slightly fearful. He could hear her doubts whirling round in her mind. 

Lucius looked up from his prone position, wracked by cramps in his calf muscles.   
“My Lord – I would..be pleased.. to assist you in your ..experiment” he hushed out, his heart still speeding from the curse.” 

The Dark Lord smiled thinly. “A wise decision. Come here...Hermione” 

 

She got up from the sofa hesitantly and moved to stand beside him, her head tilted to look up at him again.   
Once more she was struck by that peculiar gravity.. the magnetism the serpentine man radiated. 

“Lucius – your wand.” He demanded. 

The blonde raised his brows in disbelief. The Dark Lord was going to allow a mudblood to use his wand?! The idea of it was very nearly worse than the prospect of being cruciated.   
Being cruciated by a mudblood using his own wand. Was it humanly possible to be more degraded than this?! 

He had no sooner pulled it from his sleeve than the Dark Lord was summoning it to him.   
He levitated it to the girl, not bothering to try to hold it himself.

To Lucius great delight, no sooner had her fingertips touched the handle but the wand hissed and sputtered and threw black sparks.   
It did not like her magic apparently. 

The Dark Lord scowled like a child with a wonderful Christmas present that had been broken before he had had a chance to play wth it. He snatched the snake headed wand out of Hermione’s hand and tossed it back at the supine man in frustrated irritation.   
After a moment he turned to her speculatively once more, his head slightly tilted. 

“Come here, Hermione. Come closer to me.” He coaxed quietly.

She stepped the two steps between them uncertainly and he pulled her in front of him, placing her back against his chest.   
He held her pressed against him with one hand over her abdomen as the hand that held his wand traced down her other arm until it found her hand.   
Raising it slightly with his own, he tentatively slipped his own wand into her palm, keeping careful hold of her hand as he did.   
There was no reaction from the wand as he cautiously removed his fingers to her wrist. 

He observed Lucius gaping like a dead fish. Turning his head to look down into the little mudblood’s face, he saw the same stunned expression there. 

“How does it feel?” he murmured against her ear, noting her shiver in response. 

She had to swallow several times at the dryness in her mouth to be able to speak.   
“it’s.. heavier.. than mine. Thicker.. I don’t mean physically.. it.. it feels.. It’s hard to describe. More resistance. Or..slower.. turgid..”   
She turned her head slightly but timidly averted her eyes.

He smirked and dragged her wrist to the side, pointing it at the fireplace, then slid his hand up till he was gripping the wand above her hand and cast the charm to extinguish the flames, withdrawing to her wrist once more afterward. 

“Cast incendio” He instructed, his lips close to the curve of her ear. 

She concentrated and cast the charm. 

The ensuing massive fireball caused him to snatch her back a couple of steps. 

 

Lucius pulled in his legs sharply away from the flaring flame tongues, looking up at them both in horror. ‘If the girl was able to cast the cruciatus...’ he thought fearfully. 

 

The Dark Lord looked delighted.   
“Well, well... now that is ..interesting...”

He guided the shocked Hermione, his hands still on her wrist and her abdomen, urging her back around to point down at Lucius, who seemed to want to crawl away.   
Sliding his hand over hers and pressing the wood between his fingers he performed the wand movement exaggeratedly. 

“You do not need to over-pronounce the movement when you cast it, use only the tip to curve and twist” he explained, his voice emanating from a point slightly above her right ear.   
“The incantation is in the third quarter of the wand movement... like so..” He pulled her hand back and then flexed it again, the tip of the wand moving almost imperceptibly   
“Crucio!” he incanted and Lucius jolted and cramped. He released the curse almost immediately.

“But Hermione...” he spoke again softly, turning his face again, his lips moving against her ear. “I have said this to Potter when he failed to cast the curse upon Bella.. ...You have to mean it.. You must desire his pain or you will fail” He darted his tongue out and traced the rim of her ear, making her shudder. She wanted to touch him again.. His proximity was maddening. His breath across her ear made her stomach flutter.   
He pulled her closer still and she felt him erect against her lower back. 

He murmured against her neck now. “I am not entirely convinced you are capable of casting it.. but..if you succeed.. I will kiss you.” He punctuated his offer with a sucking nip across the tendon in her neck, making her feel jittery with want.   
She really, really, didn’t want to fail right now. 

Taking a deep breath she looked down at Lucius. He was braced on his elbows watching with incomprehension and barely-veiled disgust.   
She felt a flare of fury at that. How dare he judge her?! He had no basis for it. It was one thing to be judged by Harry or any of her friends but Lucius Malfoy had no moral basis for disapproval..   
And as for his ridiculous blood prejudices – she had beaten every pure blood at Hogwarts. The Dark Lord had beaten every pureblood in the world.   
Lucius was a ridiculous little man and his disgust made her want to.. 

“Crucio!!” she incanted venomously, wanting to cut the horrid man into little wriggling pieces. 

Lucius yelped in shock and rolled in pain, writhing his body, trying to relieve the horrible agony in his muscles and nerves. It felt as if he were being taken apart, veins stripped and tugged loose, muscles stabbed with needles and stretched on the rack. Tendons shrank and joints overflexed.   
He started to whimper almost immediately. 

The Dark Lord looked on with wide joyful eyes. Today was certainly one wonderful surprise after another.   
The sword and the chance to rid himself of Bella for a while and now this..   
He slid his hand up over Hermione’s and gently turned her wrist, changing the angle of the wand. “Now focus that feeling” he whispered next to her ear. “Channel it down into a thin concentrated line. Focus upon it to the exclusion of all else.” 

She tried to obey. It was difficult with his lips so close to her skin. 

After a while Lucius started to wail desperately.

“Yess...” he hissed softly against her neck. “How long can you hold it focusssed?” he wondered aloud. 

She swallowed and struggled to shut everything out except for that moment of Lucius’s disgust as he looked up at her in the Dark Lord’s arms.   
Lucius was sobbing and making little inarticulate sounds that might have been begging.   
She barely registered it.

It wasn’t until the Dark Lord ran the tip of his tongue up the column of her neck that she lost control. The curse fell and she found herself panting.   
The tongue on her neck had been replaced by lips, kissing and sucking. His hand on her abdomen had moved up to her breast, lightly caressing its curve with fingertips.   
She moaned helplessly, barely noticing the wand being plucked gently from her fingers in the face of the sensations.   
“Very good, Hermione..” he pronounced against her neck. “Once again.. you have pleased me.” 

She tilted her head, baring her throat to him, but he lifted his head away from her, chuckling darkly at her groan of disappointment. 

“Lucius..” he began, shifting his attention reluctantly. 

She suddenly noticed the broken man on the floor before her.   
Merlin! Did she do that?!.. he looked like a bent old man, his limbs curled and tight.

“I believe we are done...experimenting. Your assistance was appreciated. Are you able to stand?” 

Lucius was breathing irregularly. His voice when he spoke sounded gravelly and tight.   
“I..I.. don’t think so..my Lord.” 

The Dark Lord sighed long sufferingly and released Hermione, stepping away and stalking to his desk. 

Hermione stood, somewhat gobsmacked, staring down at the blonde patriarch who was avoiding her eyes. 

The Dark Lord returned and lowered himself to one knee beside the man, uncorking a phial carefully.   
“This will help you return home. I will instruct Severus to visit you at his earliest convenience.”  
He fixed the shell of a man with a stern glare.   
“Lucius.. I am certain I do not need to explain to you the full..extent.. of my displeasure, should Severus learn of anything pertaining to the girl. Whatever you might imagine, be assured – it will be worse.   
If your transgression should lead to the loss of my newest..servant - Draco will share your unenviable fate and you will explain to him that he suffers because his father could not hold his tongue with his lover.” 

The Dark Lord paused thoughtfully, observing the closed face of his servant. When he spoke next his voice was softer.. the voice of reason. 

“Do not assume I distrust Severus, Lucius – or that I wish to divide you.. I am requiring this of you, of you all, in protection of him. Dumbledore is a formidable legilimens and Severus spends a great deal of time with him. Let us not make his task more difficult than it needs to be.   
He has no need of this knowledge. Should I decide to send the girl back, he will have to teach her.. see her three times a day at meals. You know this as well as I.” 

Hermione jolted – send her back?! He couldn’t send her back!! God, surely not!! She’d have to face Harry.. she’d have to face Dumbledore.. he’d know!!.. the order would interrogate her.. they’d lock her in Azkaban! She’d have to obliviate herself – she didnt want to obliviate him from her memory.. 

The Dark Lord turned and looked up at her frightened mien in irritation and turned back to Lucius.   
The man was still occluded to the eyeballs.

“I see we must have a long discussion about the events of today, Lucius.” He sighed ruefully. “But we shall have it when you are feeling stronger. You will attend me in a few days and we will entertain your..concerns.” 

The blonde nodded. “Thank you My Lord”

The Dark Lord stood gracefully and stepped back to allow him to climb with difficulty to his feet.   
“I will portkey you to the manor in light of your present condition. Severus will be there presently, I imagine.” He summoned a quill from the desk and created a portkey, pushing it into the hands of the considerably-frailer-looking arrogant aristocrat.   
The man managed a short bow and then the portkey flung him away. 

Hermione watched the Dark Lord nervously.   
She was feeling extremely mixed emotions but fear was paramount among them. He had said he might send her back to Hogwarts – but he had also said he was going to kiss her..   
She felt like her heart might stop at any second. 

The unnatural gestalt turned and observed her, amused.   
“You claimed to want to serve me, Hermione. Is that still your desire?” He raised a hairless brow questioningly. 

She saw what he was saying immediately but it didn’t change the fear.   
“if..if you want me to go back, I will. I’m just.. very worried at the thought of seeing them again now. ..please don’t make me go back!” 

Irritation flickered across his face momentarily and he strode to her quickly, stopping inches from her.   
“There is a difference between begging and whining, child.. You are apparently intelligent. Reason for me your usefulness to me in Hogwarts in comparison with your usefulness to me here; How might you best serve me?” 

She swallowed uncomfortably and looked down. “I..know that.. but I haven’t learned occlumency! If Professor Dumbledore doesn’t discover me, professor Snape will...”

The Dark Lord sighed and pulled her against him, resting his arms on the small of her back.   
“You have hit upon my dilemma, Hermione. Severus is untrustworthy. Draco is incompetent. I require someone within those walls that I can rely upon.   
...And I do not yet know whether I can rely upon you.” He studied her pensively.   
“I can protect you from legilimency. You need not fear intrusion into your mind. However...If you cannot control your behaviour, your tongue, ..your conscience... that is a different matter.”   
He stroked the back of a pale finger down her cheek.

She felt herself waver slightly. It was only logical that she would be of use in Hogwarts, considering who she was – she wondered...would she even be alive now if she were not Harry Potter’s damn best friend?   
Yet again she felt a small guilty prick of resentment toward Harry. Since she had met him – her entire life had revolved around being Harry Potter’s best friend.   
Helping Harry, saving Harry, comforting Harry.   
In light of that though.. she didn’t know whether she could sit with him at breakfast and help him study for charms and comfort his guilt about Sirius and then go off and report to the Dark Lord.. to Tom..   
It would be so much easier if it weren’t so confronting. 

The man holding her bristled at his name in her mind..   
“If you have learned that much about me, you must know that I abhor that name... Were I not in a particularly generous mood at present, you would be screaming under my wand for thinking it at me..” 

Hermione looked pained. “I know you dislike it.. I’m sorry. I’ll try not to think of you as...him.”

Irritation flooded him even as he realised that it was counter-productive. He needed the chit to trust him.. to be loyal to him..   
If she had such difficulty with the idea of betraying Harry to the evil spectre of Lord Voldemort, perhaps he should allow her that name...  
As much as it grated against his mind, it might be useful.

He steeled himself, forcing his voice into softness.   
“Hermione.. I am him.. as you put it. While I do not associate myself with the name.. far less so since my most recent incarnation – this face is far more suited to Lord Voldemort after all – I am the same mind.. the same man.. I have merely had the benefit of greater experience.”   
He made himself say it, even though it felt tantamount to chewing broken glass -   
“I will allow you to call me by that name when we are in private...” 

Hermione looked at the Dark Lord uneasily. Hesitating long moments, she finally shook her head. “No.. you’ll only ensure that I am seldom around you in private. I will call you whatever you prefer. My Lord.. Sir.. Master.. It doesn’t really matter.” 

He sighed and tilted his head. “Tom.. Say it Hermione..” he demanded fiercely. 

Her eyes widened and she bit her lip anxiously. 

His wand was pressed to her temple before she even registered he had drawn it.   
Her vision blurred for a second and then the features of the man holding her shifted and she was looking up into piercing dark blue eyes. 

The face studying hers with faint amusement was breathtakingly lovely; every feature symmetrical and perfectly proportioned.   
He had a patrician nose. It was such a shame that he had lost the attractively shaped feature.   
He had long black eyelashes, his eyebrows were naturally-perfect angular bows – his raven wing hair swept to the side in casual elegance.

It was...bizarrely.. recognisably the same face.   
His bone structure..his lips.. the shape of his eyes all had not changed. And yet.. it was completely different.   
This was a man..a devastatingly attractive man, yes, but a man of flesh and blood.   
The other.. the other was Lord Voldemort and he looked like something that was beyond human.

“Say my name..” the man who was Tom Riddle instructed her. 

She released her bottom lip gently and whispered “Tom” 

He smirked.   
“Very good, Hermione... Say it again.. and this time let us pretend you are a Gryffindor”

She frowned and this time she spoke quietly but clearly “Tom Riddle ...Junior; The greatest living wizard; The last Heir of Salazar Slytherin... and the man who created the character of Lord Voldemort.” 

He blinked and frowned.   
Even his frown was aesthetically pleasing. 

“I am undecided whether to address your distinction of greatest ‘living’ wizard..there are problems with that on several different levels.. and I do not believe I am amused at your description of ‘Lord Voldemort’ as a character. ...But you certainly gave an award winning performance of feckless Gryffindor. That was Gryffindor at its wretched finest. Nudging against the border between feckless Gryffindor and dead Gryffindor, in fact.”   
He withdrew his wand from her forehead and she was unable to prevent a very small pang of wistfulness as the mirage of the man shimmered away to be replaced by the marble white alien visage of Lord Voldemort. 

“Say it again..” he demanded quietly. 

She looked up into the strange face.. “Tom..” she said unflinchingly. 

The colourless lips drew into a smile. “There you go...”   
He drew her closer still. She was pressed up against his body seamlessly now as he traced the side of her face with his wand.   
“You take instruction tolerably well... I believe I might give you what you desire.” 

She furrowed her brow in confusion.

He leaned in and brushed his pale lips across hers, making them tingle. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip to soothe the sensation. His strange vertical pupils followed the movement and in the next moment his mouth descended upon hers brutally, his hand fisted in her hair holding her in place.   
When his cool pointed tongue slashed along the crease of her lips, she parted them, allowing him to deepen the kiss.   
He devoured her forcefully, tongue sliding over her own, curling and teasing, drawing it back into his own mouth, where he sucked upon it then nipped it sharply, making her flinch. 

There was nothing tentative or gentle in his kiss and yet this was gentle by his standards.   
The girl was still responding willingly.. she was in no pain.. He had not restrained her, beaten her, invaded her mind.. none of his preferred..foreplay.   
He pulled back with some small reluctance. 

Hermione was flushed, her pupils wide as black tunnels. She leaned into him, trying to reclaim his lips.   
The smallest quirk of his brow halted her and she bit her bottom lip again instead, need written across her face.   
He smiled, pleased at her response.

“Yes.. you do take instruction well..don’t you?!..” he stroked his knuckles over her jaw, gazing at her with half lidded eyes 

“As I was saying before I became distracted by your hot little mouth.. I have decided to give you what you most want.   
You will spy for me...and I will teach you the dark arts...   
...Well.. I will teach you the dark arts..among other things.” 

Hermione had stopped breathing in ecstatic shock. She must have been drugged or poisoned somehow and currently lying in the infirmary having some kind of lovely dream. This couldn’t possibly happen. 

She might have fantasised about it, but there was no way that the Dark Lord would have time or inclination to actually teach her anything.. unless it was something that involved a lot of suffering and a horrible death.   
The hard body in her arms rocked slightly.   
He was chuckling. 

“You are not altogether wrong. I would have made a terrible teacher.. I do not share knowledge readily. However...for some reason I find myself peculiarly enamoured of the idea of training you...molding you in my own image..   
and I shall enjoy in it all the more for the knowledge that you are sitting next to Potter at lunch, in classes, sleeping only a few rooms away”   
He kissed her lightly once more and she forced herself not to try to pursue him when he retreated.

“Are you amenable?..” he asked, certain of her answer.   
She did not disappoint.

“yes!.. yes yes yes!” Her expression was dazed and her smile beatific.

He pulled her gently toward the low wide armchair, seating himself and then drawing her down upon his lap.   
She seemed to become skittish again at this. Clearly her lack of sexual experience, displayed earlier, extended to all forms of intimacy.

“Calm yourself, girl. I merely wish to be comfortable while I think.” he reassured her, turning her effortlessly to lie on her back atop him, her head on his shoulder and her legs hanging on either side of his own.   
He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck absently. 

“The problem is, of course, your inability to freely leave school grounds. You cannot very well vanish off by yourself every weekend...” 

She responded sadly “Now that my parents are gone.. I probably won’t be able to leave Hogwarts during term break either.. Or rather.. I’m sure they’ll pack me off to the Weasley’s or some Order safehouse.   
In subtext the words whined through her brain ‘do I really have to go back?!’

He ignored it. 

“No. They won’t. A way will be found.   
Until then.. our lessons may necessarily have to be long distance, for the most part.” 

He drew his wand and summoned a book, lowering it in her..their.. lap.   
It looked suspiciously like the diary horcrux that Harry had destroyed in second year. 

He snorted at her as if to say ‘oh ye of little faith’ and transfigured it into a red leatherbound year planner diary of the type found in stationary shops countrywide.   
“Replicum” he incanted, tapping it twice. The single diary became two identical diaries. 

Awkwardly reaching around her he ordered them side by side on her lap. 

“Perhaps you may not know this particular spell” he murmured.   
“Take the wand..”

When she held it, he folded his large hand around her small one, ensuring he held the wood of the wand above her fingers and moved it to the first book.   
He drew a sequence of runes on the front cover. Hermione mentally noted them as they went. 

When he had finished the six runes he moved the wand to the second book. 

“Duplicate what you saw” he instructed. 

She did so easily and he smiled approvingly. “Good.”   
He tapped each book in turn and then tapped them again in the reverse order. Then drawing the wandform in the air slowly, so that she could see it he enunciated “transcrivae mutatum permutate”   
He drew the same wandform in mirror image and repeated the incantation.   
There was a faint yellowish glow momentarily from the books. 

Summoning a quill and ink from the desk he charmed both books open and had her write in each.   
Whatever was written in one appeared simultaneously in the other. 

Hermione nodded, pleased.   
“No.. I didn’t know that spell. Thank you! I made up one somewhat like it though when I charmed galleons for the DA last year.” 

He didn’t respond to this. Instead he placed his hand upon the first book and had her place her hand on top of his on the wand this time as he drew the rather curly wandform and incanted “Cogus obscurus.”   
This time when she duplicated it on the other book with her own hand, he allowed her to wield the wand unassisted.   
She imitated to his satisfaction.

He confiscated the wand from her automatically and took up the quill and first book, pulling it to the side to reach it comfortably. 

His script when he wrote in the first diary was beautiful, she observed. He had a flowing angular cursive style with understated flourishes.

When he had finished she observed what he had written in the first diary.   
“the muggles and their blood pollution are the true cause of all ill in the wizarding world. When they mix with pure wizarding stock, the result is a weakening of magical power and a dulling of the mental faculties. 

She frowned slightly. He gestured at the other book. 

She read “Relevant is not what one is, but what one can do. Halfbloods and even muggleborns can be more powerful and more intelligent than purebloods.” 

She gasped and craned her neck to look over her shoulder at him, shocked not at the spell but at what he had chosen to communicate. 

He smirked and waved his hand, erasing the writing in both books.

She took the quill from him gingerly and hesitated, trying to think of something to write.   
Finally she wrote “Inbreeding within a small closed population leads to genetic aberrations, infertility, reduced intellectual capacity and health problems.”   
Out of curiosity she added “there is no good or evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek it.” 

She heard an amused snort behind her. 

Looking to ..Tom’s diary, she read “Muggle contamination of the pure wizarding blood leads to infertility, reduced intellectual capacity and health problems. There is no good or evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek it” 

She wrinkled her nose unsure whether to be amused or not. 

“What do you read in mine?” she wondered aloud. 

He responded dryly “Idealistic drivel about house elves... and a familiar quote about the corruptive potential of absolute power.” 

He stilled thoughtfully. In some ways, he noticed, the chit was not unlike himself when young.   
She had entirely convinced her professors and the majority of the school that butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, when she was by far the most devious and mercenary girl in the place, and so intelligent and capable that she was never caught. 

He waved his hand again, deleting the writing from both diaries.   
“ You should be safe if it is found, however to be cautious, I would advise you to place locking charms upon it and hide it carefully.”

She nodded and he levitated her diary to the table and his own to the desk simultaneously. 

She was impressed, although she knew it was really such a ridiculously small thing. She found it hard to control more than one object in the air if they were moving at cross purposes.

He shifted himself beneath her, sliding lower in the armchair and running his fingertips up her body, making her shiver again.   
“You will take several similarly shielded books from my library when you depart and will learn their contents” he informed her, slowly beginning to unfasten her robe. 

Her eyes darted hungrily to the bookshelves. 

“Now now, my dear. It is rather insulting that you desire my books at the present moment.”   
He turned his head toward her and flickered the tip of his tongue against her neck behind her ear as he spread her robe open. She gasped and wriggled on his lap slightly at the sensation. 

He inspected the body he had revealed. She wore a thigh length shift dress below the robe but her shape was as pleasing as the robe had suggested. 

“I think we can do without this” he murmured, vanishing the dress wandlessly.

She turned her head away nervously, afraid of what he might think of her body, which she knew was terribly imperfect.   
She knew her breasts were quite small and her hips a bit too large no matter what she did. She had tried to lose weight and the only result was that her ribs stuck out now when she raised her arms and her hips were still too wide.   
She also had knobbly knees and horrid hair. 

Her thoughts dissipated helplessly when his fingers began to trace the contours of her exposed body, making her whimper and sigh alternately as he stroked the silky skin of her thighs and abdomen.   
She turned her face back to his, seeking to capture his lips and he allowed it, tangling his tongue with her own languidly. One of his hands slid up into her hair, holding her in place to kiss, while the other slid slowly but inexorably down beneath the waistband of her brief blue satin knickers.   
She gasped against his mouth as his fingertips explored her small trimmed triangle of pubic hair, delving lower; slipping between her lips and finding her sopping wet and burning.   
His swift sharky smirk was clearly tangible against her lips and he kissed her harder, driving away rational thought with the demands of lips and tongue.   
She barely noticed when her panties disappeared, but moaned into his mouth as his finger trailed up and down her folds and then traced the circlet of her tiny wet little hole. 

He pulled away, holding her in place with his hand fisted in her curls. His voice was soft but brooked no argument.   
“I am going to take you, Hermione. -You are mine.. this” he teased at her virginal little channel with his fingertip “-is mine”

She nodded, eyes dazed with lust. “Yes.. yours.”

He kissed her roughly once again, vanishing her bra and shifting the hand that held her in place to her breast, caressing and cupping the ample mound while the hand at her pussy gently insinuated a single finger into her tight passage, shallowly stroking in and out slowly, the heel of his hand rubbing teasingly over her clitoris. 

It felt strange - she had never had anything at all inside her until now. Her own masturbatory forays were rather primitive, she didn’t even use tampons. Her sex drive hadn’t really been a big focus in her life so far, really. There were so many more important things to do.   
She moaned again, in wonder at the sensations her body was reporting.

“Up.” He commanded, releasing her. 

She climbed up off him with some initial fumbling and stood, embarrassed before him, trying to cover herself with her hands.

“Stop that, foolish child” he demanded impatiently. “I want to see you. Turn. Show yourself to me”

She froze, ashamed of her body and what he would no doubt think of it when he had a chance to see her properly.   
That was obviously why he had required her to stand up in this manner.   
It took her all her will power to force her hands down to her side and she stood shaking and ashamed. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the derision on his face. 

Unseen, he raised his eyebrows in mild surprise at her behaviour. The girl was even more damaged than young Severus had been.   
She had a luscious little body and was apparently entirely unaware of that fact.   
As she turned on the spot he admired her pert little bottom and tight silky thighs. 

Ah youth. She was so very young. A child, though she protested the fact. No more than seventeen.. Rarely did he indulge in females this young. They tended to break too quickly. It was less entertaining than selecting one in her mid to late twenties with enough experience under her belt to be more discriminating in her fear....to try to rationalise and to endure what he did to her..at least initially.   
He would have to be very careful when he took the chit to his bed. She had to be capable of returning to Hogwarts later.   
But he did not want to release her without having her.. Done right, it would bind her more completely to him if he took her virgin blood....and what if the worst did come to pass and the girl was discovered?! No.. he would take her now! 

Hermione had circumscribed a full rotation now, her heart sinking at the silence of the dark wizard below her and gingerly opened her eyes.   
The predatory hunger in the glittering red eyes was unnerving. His expression was-..   
..well... objectively seen it was frightening. She should be terrified. Any rational, sane, right-thinking person would be trying to escape – hell any reasonable person wouldn’t be voluntarily naked in front of this man in the first place.   
She could call him Tom all she wanted, but he was Lord Voldemort and he was terrifying. The most powerful.. the most dangerous. She must have a screw loose for desiring him like this.   
It was only a matter of time until she was killed, if not by him, then by a death eater.. or perhaps even one of her friends if they found out.   
Nobody would ever understand. No matter how this war turned out, her life was almost certainly over. 

The reptilian-featured wizard stood gracefully, stepping close to her, his height forcing her again to tilt her head back to look up at him.   
He gestured at the bookshelves to the side without turning away from her and she registered it slide out and to the side, exposing an archway and beyond it, a bedchamber.

His voice was low and dark..“It is too late for those thoughts, Hermione. You have offered yourself to me...and now I will have you. The time for ‘should have’ has passed.”   
His pale hand stroked down from her shoulder to her wrist, encircling it tightly. 

Without further hesitation he turned and led her into the bedchamber. His grip on her clearly communicating that she would follow or be dragged.   
The archway vanished behind her immediately. 

She complied unquestioningly. What he said was true – it was far too late to try to back out and would she, even if she could?   
This was, after all, what she had wanted; Incomprehensibly real now, but nonetheless - all she had fantasised about and more. She would get to taste the object of her fantasies..   
He was going to teach her.. wasn’t that worth any price? To learn from the greatest..to have the chance to gain insight into that mind.. 

Thus preoccupied she continued to argue with herself internally as he led her to the bed and turned, sweeping avaricious eyes down her body once again. 

His words brought her out of her tailspin   
“Do you want to disrobe me, Hermione?..” he asked, tilting his head back and looking down upon her with glinting eyes, a faint twist of amusement at the corner of his lips. 

Yes. Yes she really did. The thought of being allowed to touch this man at her own discretion was heady.   
She bit her lip and moved trembling fingers to the fastenings of his robe, fumbling with them as he looked down watching her overawed excitement with dark satisfaction. 

He allowed her to struggle her way through the robe, sliding it off his shoulders and laying it on the bed reverently, leaving him in a black shirt and trousers.   
She seemed surprised at the muggle clothing. He tilted his head slightly watching her and sampling her thoughts on his unexpected attire. 

Her hands shook terribly as she stepped close, reaching up for the top button.   
Briefly he caught her eye and before she lowered her gaze again he read a delicious mix of powerful emotions, chief among them being blatant desire..  
He could see she felt..proud and simultaneously unworthy to be allowed this liberty on his person.

She swallowed hard and managed the buttons with some difficulty, parting his shirt as she moved down, exposing a sculpted marble chest, smooth and cool and devoid of hair.   
Hesitating, her shaking hand hanging in midair for a second, she stroked a warm finger down his sternum. 

He parted his lips, watching her exploration with avid interest. It was astounding how entertaining he was finding this strange innocent little chit.   
Normally he tended to rather loathe innocence. It was too close to ignorance.   
The incandescent adoration in her mind was like an electric current. So similar to Bella.. and yet incomparable. 

Hermione had reached the last button and tugged the shirt free, spreading it and looking upon him as if she were trying to memorise his form.   
Impulsively she leaned in and brushed a feather light kiss over his left pectoral muscle to the side of his small flat white nipple. Her small tongue darting out, flickering quickly and withdrawing.

Amused but impatient he banished the rest of his clothing, making her jump slightly at the sudden exposure of the lean, muscled, snow white body. Her eyes slid down him drinking him in. 

Two fingers beneath her chin brought her face back up to meet his eyes.   
“Touch me” he commanded softly. 

She reached out tentatively and placed her hands on his abdomen and ran them slowly up his skin.   
“You feel so cold” she murmured, a puzzled look on her face.   
He wrapped his arms slowly around her and pulled her against him. “You feel..wonderfully warm, my dear. Perhaps you can raise my temperature.” 

Her hands were sliding around the back of his neck and she pulled him down to her mouth. They tangled for a while until he moved quickly, gripping her under the ass and lifting her effortlessly. Her legs wrapped around his waist automatically and she wasn’t aware of reality with any definition till he drew back from the heated kiss and she found herself lying on the bed on her back panting and flushed with his hard body between her thighs. 

She had been grinding herself against him without even realising it and it wasn’t till he stopped kissing her that she became aware of the thick cock slipping teasingly against her most intimate area, rubbing up against her clit, spreading her juices around. 

The Dark Lord was leaning up and summoning something. She turned a dazed head trying to focus.   
A phial. What? Why? It was empty.   
He held it in the palm of his hand and whispered an incantation in a language she didn’t recognise.   
The slow grinding movement of his cock against her made it so hard to focus.   
He placed the phial open on the bedside table and turned back to her, leaning down and proceeding to tongue her breasts.   
This was more stimulation than she had ever had before and she couldn’t help crying out when he slipped his wet, strangely-cool mouth over her nipple, sucking it to a needy little point.   
She felt his teeth close on it briefly but he released her without biting, as she had suddenly been afraid he was going to do.   
Instead he licked and sucked a meandering path around her breast and over to the other one which received a similar treatment. 

It was astounding to look down and see him there.. to see that face doing this. 

 

He moved up again and caught her lips, plunging his tongue into her even as his hands glided down her body and he positioned the head of his cock at her small entrance.   
Small.. it was tiny he thought. Pixies had larger snatches. He was going to tear her apart when he thrust in.   
He knew if he were merciful he would lick and finger her to stretch her somewhat so that it would not hurt quite as much when he tore her hymen..but he wanted to spill as much blood as possible in taking her innocence. The more she shed, the more he would have in his possession later.   
One never knew when these things might come in useful. 

Still.. he didn’t want to traumatize the naive little chit to the point that she might run weeping back to Hogwarts and hide from him. 

As much as he hated it, he saw only two choices. Two spells. 

The first was the so called “Love’s noble sacrifice” – an ancient spell that would transfer her pain to him. He would then bear the result of whatever suffering he inflicted.   
That was certainly not appealing. 

The other option was an obscure spell in parseltongue that he had originally found in Salazar Slytherin’s private library in the chamber of secrets decades ago.   
In a sense it was the dark arts equivalent of mercy. It didn’t diminish or transfer pain, it merely adjusted the mind’s interpretation of it, rendering it arousing, pleasurable to experience it.   
It was dangerous for that reason as those under its effect could easily harm themselves lethally and die in ecstatic bliss.

Of course.. it might not be exactly what the girl had imagined for her first foray into sexuality.. but it was probably preferable to screams and tears and begging him to stop. 

But first things first.. he had to render her blood sacrifice binding.. He hovered poised at her entrance, implacable to her writhing and trying to get him to rub up against her again.   
Breaking the kiss he trailed his lips over her jaw, nipping and sucking to her neck.. She was making appealing little mewling sounds in response to his ministrations. He slid his lips up to her ear. 

“Hermione... do you want to be mine?” he murmured seductively. 

“Mmhm..” she sighed dazedly, too caught up in sensation to offer more. 

“Say it.. Say you want to be mine” he urged, trailing his tongue up the shell of her ear, his breath teasing her. 

“Ohhh.. I want to be yours,” she breathed with longing. 

“Do you give yourself to me?” he asked. She hesitated but his mouth was already sliding down her neck to that sensitive place at the base that caused her to gasp and clutch at him. 

“yes!” she exclaimed urgently.

He smiled cruelly..nipping his way back up her slender neck to her ear, breathing across it and making her whimper and pull on his shoulders.   
He slid a hand between them again and started to stroke her hard little clit.   
The effect was galvanic. Her moans redoubled.   
He hissed the pain converting incantation softly into her ear in parseltongue and the sound seemed to arouse her even further, she shuddered in response. 

He quirked. The little thing was turned on by parseltongue. How delightful. 

He rose up to brush his lips against hers and hissed softly ::you belong to me. I claim you::

She kissed him like a thing possessed and at that moment he thrust forward, forcing himself into her and violently rending her barrier.   
Screaming and curling around him tightly, he nevertheless felt her fluttering around his cock.   
The girl had come as he’d entered her. The pain must have been considerable, he mused. 

Her whimpers and panting as she sought to recover were quite fetching.   
He withdrew slowly, carefully, turning and watching the phial on the table filling itself. When the blood reached the top he wandlessly sealed the phial and sent it back where it had come from. 

Hermione was too shaken to be aware of anything much. She came back to life when he plunged back into her, yelping and squirming, trying to get away.   
“Now now.. none of that” he tutted her mildly and bit down on her throat as he started to thrust deeply into her.   
Her pussy was scorchingly hot with the blood flowing. 

 

Hermione was beside herself. It had hurt.. so much! ...So much more than she had been expecting it to.   
Ginny said that the first time wasn’t that bad. Maybe it was just her..   
or maybe it was her choice of partner.   
She was disturbed at how the pain had somehow heightened the other sensations she had been feeling and pushed her over the edge.   
Even now.. the large organ driving into her hurt with each movement but it was also so ...strangely.. good.. like scratching an itch. The pain made it better somehow.   
This wasn’t right. 

She responded blindly as the Dark Lord’s mouth again descended upon her own. The movement of his cool slick tongue against hers enhanced the feeling of him within her.   
It was strange.. when he had first started moving in her, his penis had actually felt cold. His entire body was cool.. ok not cold as such but several degrees cooler than her own.   
Right now that was wonderful. She felt feverish and broke the kiss to press her warm face into his neck, unable to stop herself from bucking and moving with him, chasing a climax that was fast approaching.   
Her mouth sucked at his skin helplessly, biting him and she was rewarded with a low groan. His thrusts became harder and one of his hands slipped up to her breast, crushing and mauling it.   
That was enough to tip her over into another mind blowing climax. She cried out desperately, her body writhing and flexing beneath him, hearing his low moan near her ear.

 

Sweet Salazar the girl was reactive.. he cursed, grinning, straining to control the approach of his own completion. He was not finished; was not ready yet to end this occupation.   
She was pushing herself up in counterpoint to him and it felt..extraordinarily satisfying.   
The observation was irritating. Normally he preferred a partner who was struggling against him. 

The girl was biting him, curled around him like a limpet, her body deliciously warm. He could not help a groan of pleasure at it. 

If he didn’t wish to come he was going to have to pull away now. 

It was almost too much to force himself to do that though. His body was moving on autopilot; fucking the little thing into the mattress with violent strokes. His breath was rough and fast and he did not want to stop now to get the sensations under control. He wanted to let the impending storm flash through him. His cock seemed to be in full control of his body as his hips moved, grinding deeply into the girl.  
She was begging him incoherently. Her lips moving against his shoulder, kissing and mumbling pleading exhortations as she clenched him even more tightly like she wanted to crawl under his skin. 

Fuck it.. He would come now.. He could always have the chit again later. 

He panted in pleasure as he turned his face slightly, placing his lips at her ear and breathed “..crucio...” The ensuing shrieks and spasmic cramps pushed them both over the edge and he groaned gutterally, emptying his balls into the screaming girl below him, her head tossing. 

He released the spell as he felt his climax ebbing and her screams abated too, turning into breathy sobs and shivers over her entire body. 

“Mmmmm..” he growled into her neck feeling lazy boneless satisfaction.

 

He rolled them both so that she lay straddled atop him, still curled around his body. Her weight was negligible and her warm shaking and shuddering of recovery intensely pleasurable.   
He had not withdrawn from her body but could feel his cock softening in her. 

The breathy little sniffles and pants next to his ear tapered off slowly and she tentatively raised her head to look down at him. Her face was streaked with tears but she seemed to almost glow with freshly shagged radiance.   
The expression she wore was exquisite. She wasn’t sure how to deal with what she had just experienced obviously. There was a curiosity and a vulnerability in her eyes. 

He circumvented her questions by dragging her down by the hair to kiss him. She responded at first hesitantly but then increasingly enthusiastically.   
He hoped she wouldn’t become difficult now.   
When he released her from the kiss she looked slightly dazed again. It was flattering to see the extreme effect he had upon her. 

His wandless scourgify upon them both made her flinch and then she bit her lip, seeming worried about something. 

Sighing he demanded. “Speak, girl. What is it?!” 

Her eyes were wide and she seemed unsure how to phrase whatever she wanted to say.   
Impatiently he delved into her mind and saw the shape of things.   
He snorted.

“Firstly, Hermione.. there is nothing wrong with masochism. It does rather defeat the purpose for true sadists, but it is not ..aberrant.. as you seem to view it. Many people, more than you would believe, enjoy a little bitter with their sweet.   
Secondly, and more importantly, although I am already aware you possess some masochistic tendencies.. no it is not usual for one to be aroused to climax by the cruciatus. You were under the effects of a spell. You are small and I am generously endowed – It was desirable to render you capable of enduring the pain I was aware you would experience when I penetrated you. Do not fuss. I have already removed it. Look” 

He pinched her bottom and she squeaked indignantly. It hurt - and not in a good way.   
She wasn’t sure what to think about this.   
On the one hand she felt almost cheated. Her first time had been under the effects of some mind altering spell.   
On the other..more pragmatic.. hand, she was grateful that he had sought to improve the experience for her.   
It didn’t seem to fit, with all the things she had learned about the man, for him to be so merciful. 

She curled down around him again, putting her head on his chest. 

Astoundingly he stroked her hair gently.   
There was something possessive about the gesture and indeed this was only exaggerated when he spoke, his chest rumbling against her ear.   
“You are mine now, Hermione. Do not forget... I do not share my possessions. I am certain I do not need to explain to you what will happen should you betray me.” 

She sighed and wrapped her arms around him more tightly.   
Somehow the alluded threat, rather than unnerving her, made her feel a fierce little warmth inside.   
“Yes Tom” she whispered against his skin happily. 

He only barely managed to steel himself against reacting.   
The name might grate against him painfully but the tone in her voice was very encouraging. She would return to Hogwarts and carry out what he required of her. 

He reluctantly lifted her off him and placed her beside him in the crook of his arm where she immediately curled up against him, burrowing her head against his chest. 

It was peculiar how little that bothered him. 

He sighed, finding himself drowsy.   
“You must return in only a few hours, my dear and I have preparations to make. We must rise.” 

She suppressed the tiny whine inside her and nodded against his side, feeling slightly bereft when he pulled away, swinging his long lean legs over the edge of the bed and gliding to his feet. 

For the first time she could see his entire body at distance.   
He was breathtaking.   
He looked like some kind of marble statue, each muscle defined, his form perfectly proportioned.   
When he turned, the effect shifted. Instead of looking like a greek sculpture he appeared more like some pagan idol.. Or.. an alien.. a cenobite... a Sumerian snake god..   
She watched his lips quirk and knew he had registered the thought. 

He had summoned his wand and a single wave had his robes shimmering back into place around him.   
When he pointed it at her, a strange thrill went through her.. a tiny shiver of fear.   
But she felt her own robes appearing around her. They had been in the other room. That was a handy spell, she thought. 

The archway had reappeared and Tom was already stalking off through it. “Come.” He commanded brusquely.   
She complied.


	3. Chapter 3

He strode to his desk. He needed to summon Severus and visit his vault here in the mansion, but the chit could not be present for either of those meetings.   
He would have to leave her warded in here. 

He turned as the girl stepped past the bookcase. She was dressed in her flattering robes but her curly hair still looked sex-tousled. There was no mistaking that she had been thoroughly shagged.   
He suppressed the smirk that threatened to break out on his lips. These feelings were peculiar and quite unlike him.   
“Sit down, Hermione” he ordered distractedly while he opened his desk once more and sought a keychain with strange keys. Silver and amethyst, malachite and iron. Lapis and tungsten The dozens of shapes and materials varied wildly and some keys were not entirely within the visible spectrum. His vault was exceedingly intricate. Its lock altered according to the cycles of the moon and the time of day. The six locks needed to be opened in the correct sequence. Any error was quite dangerous to the one wielding the keys.   
His silken rope was a unidirectional portal of sorts into the vault. It was impossible to remove things from it but the Gordian cord allowed him to deposit at will. 

Slipping his keys into the pocket of his robe, which continued to lie flat due to dimensional enhancements, he strode to the bookcase nearest his desk and perused the tomes thoughtfully. He didn’t want to task the girl with anything that required a wand or could prove dangerous to her in his absence.   
Eventually he settled upon Agamentis’ ‘potions of control.’ It was a useful text, rare and fairly dark, despite its amiable appearance. He leafed through it with fond memories as he strolled to the girl.   
When his eyes wandered from the pages to her face he found her looking at the text with burning longing. He sniffed, amused and passed her the book. 

If it had been a dog with a treat she’d have had his fingers off with the enthusiasm with which she claimed the book.

“Read, Hermione. I will return soon. You shall not be taking that particular tome with you when you depart, so make the most of the time you have with it.” 

He did not have to tell the girl twice. The book was already open in her lap as she dove in without hesitation. She did not even look up when he departed. 

He appeared in the great hall that he usually used for his meetings and snickered to himself at the image of the frantically reading girl that reminded him of himself when he was a child, so very long ago. He would enjoy watching her change as she learned the arts, he realised.   
Summoning Severus he took a seat in his silver throne tarnished black with age and dark magic and set about to wait for his errant servant to appear. 

 

 

While Hermione gasped in fascination at the interesting if rather questionable things one could apparently do with fairly readily available ingredients, and the Dark Lord waited on his throne lost in thought, Severus Snape cursed under his breath in the headmaster’s office at Hogwarts.   
Several Order members were meeting to discuss the situation with the Ministry of Magic, that, while admitting the Dark Lord’s return, was reticent about reacting to it, afraid that to institute protective measures in public areas would erode public confidence in its control. At the same time, those in power considered Albus Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix almost as dangerous as the Death Eaters. Minister of Magic Scrimgeour was terrified of a coup d’etat by the great wizard. 

When his mark burned and he cursed, clapping a hand over it, the room turned to him with mixed expressions. Sympathy and regret in the eyes of the Headmaster and Remus Lupin, suspicion and outright hostility in the eyes of Kingsley Shacklebolt, Alastor Moody and Nymphadora Tonks.   
“If you would excuse me, Headmaster..” he began.   
“Yes, yes, Severus. Quite alright” Albus reassured him. “Go, my boy. Be safe. I will speak with you later”   
The words sounded amiable but the meaning was never unclear to him. Albus was ordering him to report back the moment he returned. He schooled his expression, cut a clipped bow and retreated from the room. His arm was starting to ache already. He took the shortest passage to the entrance of the castle and set off for the Forbidden forest at a swift pace.   
No sooner did he pass the blue mark fifty metres into the forest, than he disapparated for the Dark Lord’s current base of operations, a muggle estate on the coast of Ireland. 

 

“My Lord..” he acknowledged, noting he was the only one present in the great hall, and dropped to one knee, bowing his head.   
The man seemed to be in an excellent mood today, he observed through his eyelashes. He lounged languorously. Whatever had caused this state of affairs was probably not good for the Order, he supposed.

“Ah Severus. I trust I did not interrupt something important?” The Dark Lord tossed lightly. He could feel him probing at the corners of his mind and showed him an image of five cauldrons brewing. 

“There is nothing more important than my service to you, My Lord..” he countered, almost automatically. 

The man’s smile widened. “Indisputably” he agreed.   
“Tell me what you have learned this week, my most favoured servant” he purred, slouching low and resting his chin upon one hand propped upon the armrest of the throne. 

Severus very nearly displayed his internal disarray at the image before him. The man looked positively post-coital! That was probably the reason for his manner – Severus wondered which innocent witch would be found tortured and bled out tonight.   
This was a fairly rare occurrence, admittedly, in the face of the dozens that the death eaters killed each month, but it was disturbing all the same. He remembered how it had felt when the man had..   
He shut the thought down before it could completely unfold. It did no good thinking about that. It was entirely counter-productive in fact. He began his briefing to the Dark Lord, selectively presenting old and strategically irrelevant information about Potter and his friends and about the Order.   
The Dark Lord nodded but his mood seemed to cool slightly.

“Ah Severus.. whatever would I do without your loyal service..” he said, a thin smile on his lips. 

The phrasing and the regretful little expression sent painful chills over Severus. “He knows he knows he knows” his mind screamed within its occluded little cell. The silibant voice spoke again   
“Come closer. Kneel at my feet, my boy.”   
Severus tried not to flinch at the use of the phrase. The Dark Lord never called him his boy. That was Dumbledore’s habit.   
With the greatest possible reluctance he approached the snake-faced despot and knelt beside his feet at the foot of the throne.

The red eyes glinted at him, their expression unreadable. The Dark Lord reached forward then and brushed his hair away from his face gently, only to actually cup his jaw in a cool palm, tilting his face up and appraising him.   
He forced himself to meet the gaze and show no distress. The Dark Lord was not a physically affectionate man.   
That was putting it mildly.   
There was only one time that he had ever felt the man’s hands on him and that was...some time ago. (don’t think about it!) He actually could not stop himself from swallowing nervously. 

“What would make you happy, Severus?” the Dark Lord wondered aloud.

Somewhere in the back of Severus’ mind a dark little voice muttered “your violent death my Lord.”   
The man’s thumb stroked over his cheek in cruel tenderness. “If I could bring the witch back, Severus.. If I had realised she meant this much to you..” The Dark Lord sighed.   
Severus could not prevent his eyes from widening in surprise.   
“My Lord, it was necessary. She meant very little to me and I am quite content” he lied numbly, automatically. 

The hairless brow furrowed and his master’s voice was almost regretful “No Severus.. It was not necessary. It was merely expedient and, as it turned out – a grave error on many levels. If I could repeat the evening, I would take both mother and child alive and we would all be better for it.” He paused and then seemed to shake himself. “Alas.. some things cannot be undone. But I would not have you suffering. Is there no other you desire? Is there no boon I might grant you?” 

Severus tried not to gape in shock. What was wrong with the man? What had this person done with the real Lord Voldemort?!   
But it would be extremely foolish to pass up such an open ended offer.   
He answered cautiously. “I...will think upon it.. if I might my Lord. Perhaps there is something.”

The wan smile was displayed again and he felt the Dark Lord’s thumb brush over his bottom lip fleetingly before he released him. “Do that, Severus. We will speak on the matter again when next I summon you.” The Dark Lord blinked and seemed to remember something. “Ah yes.. that reminds me. Lucius requires your attention. I was forced to punish him this morning. He is resting at the manor now. See to him before you return to Hogwarts.” 

And just like that – The Dark Lord is back, Severus thought wearily, wondering vaguely what Lucius (or Draco, more likely) had done to piss the man off so early on a Saturday morning.   
“At once, my Lord” he acknowledged, bowing his head once more.   
He felt a wash of relief when he heard “Very good Severus. That is all – you may go” and backed down the low steps, bowing more deeply and then disapparating to the manor. 

Hecates saggy tit that had been a strange summons, he reflected.

 

Lucius, when he found him in his bed at the manor, seemed to be in tolerable shape. He had obviously received some form of healing draught already. Severus frowned when his old friend greeted him with unusual reticence and further seeds of suspicion and doubt grew in his mind. 

As he dispensed several different muscle relaxing and nerve regenerating potions one after another from the hidden extended pocket in his robe, and they conversed about idle topics, he began to get the strong impression that Lucius was labouring under some piece of information that he obviously desperately wanted to share with him.   
When he asked him what he had done to warrant this rather harsh round of cruciatus, the man blew him off with a flippant joke.   
He frowned down at his sometime lover and sat on the edge of the bed stroking his perpetually-silky white mane gently. Lucius looked pained and sheepish. “Don’t ask me” he bit out. 

His fears crystallizing further, Severus sighed and finally shook his head. “If you cannot tell me, then I will not press the matter.” 

He tilted his head, looking down at the man he knew better than any other. After a moment’s hesitation he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Lucius readily returned the kiss.   
It was clear to both of them that he was not strong enough for a tryst at present, but the comfort was appreciated.

 

 

When the Dark Lord returned to his study several hours after he had left it, he found Hermione reading an entirely different book from his library. The potions text had been put away.   
A small flush of anger washed through him. The presumptuous little chit!   
She looked up guiltily when he appeared and lowered the book, which was a compendium of compulsion and possession charms. Another very useful text.. but then most of his private library consisted of useful (and rare due to their forbidden nature) texts.

“I finished the other book” she informed him weakly. “I’m sorry.. I..shouldn’t have taken another.” 

He smirked. Had he been in her position he would almost certainly have been unable to prevent himself from reading a different book too.   
“How much of what you read have you retained?” he enquired curiously. “It is a fine thing to read quickly, but if the knowledge is not internalized, it is a wasted endeavour.”   
He moved to the opposite armchair and lowered himself gracefully, crossing his legs. 

Hermione frowned and bit her lip. “I don’t know how much I retained. It’s hard to really appreciate potions information before you’ve tried it out.” 

He nodded, agreeing. “Name three ingredients in Haberforth’s enticing elixir” he demanded. 

She looked off to the right and said slowly. “wormwood, kale liver, ashwinder eggshell..”   
He smiled, pleased, but she continued   
“renlock root, prewitt foot scales, raspberry seeds, macadamia oil, kola nut, powdered copper, morrigen eye..” 

He raised a hand to stop her, delighted with her retention. “am I to assume you have retained as much of every potion in that text?   
She frowned.. “I ..dont know..” she answered carefully. “I paid less attention to the ones about...um... well about causing impotency.”   
He smirked.   
“Those can be very useful, my dear. Tell me about Emmerson’s dreadful deflating draught, if you please.” 

 

Hermione’s forehead creased. “It has... caramel in it that you have to make first with raw brown sugar?” she said uncertainly. “and..it has... narccius leaves.. and...uh.. beech sap?”   
He frowned in mild reproof. “beech?”   
She corrected herself “birch then..” he nodded. “How is it stirred”   
She strained to sort out the two dozen potions in her mind. “It...” she closed her eyes trying to see the page before her. There was a sketch of a rather sad looking man on the page. She scanned down her internal image. “it isn’t stirred after the caramel is added” she said decidedly. “it’s just left to stew and then its strained”   
The Dark Lord looked visibly impressed and that look made her inexpressibly proud. She had done something that Tom Riddle considered estimable. That was almost certainly the greatest compliment one could possibly receive. 

 

He looked at the girl, frankly quite astounded. He himself did not have a photographic memory, merely an extremely good one. It appeared the girl could retain large amounts of information after very little time with it. That was extraordinarily useful.   
For a moment he wondered how she was at brewing and whether she might replace Severus.. but that thought was abandoned reluctantly. He himself was an excellent brewer but Severus was something else entirely. The man simply had an innate instinct for creating potions. Such a thing was rare indeed. The girl might be an unusually clever little chit but he highly doubted she could match Severus in brewing.   
He turned to her. She was glowing with pride. Once again her adoration pleased him. He decided that her retention of the potions text was probably more than adequate and turned his mind back to the real matter at hand. 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold necklace. It had a tear drop shaped garnet pendant in deepest burgundy. It was very old and very valuable, not for the stone, but for the properties imbued within it. “Come here, Hermione” he said softly.   
The girl looked inquisitively at the necklace in his hand. “what is it?” she asked curiously, rising and moving to his side. She knelt before him without being told, which again sent a brief flicker of approval racing through him.   
“It is a protection for you” he informed her. “It protects the wearer against legilimency. Come closer and I will put it on you.”   
Obediently she bowed forward over his lap and lifted her curls. When she sat up, the necklace rested gently at the top of her cleavage. It suited her complexion well.   
He probed at her mind questingly and found nothing of interest. He knew this was the entire effect of the jewel. He had not been able to penetrate her mind at all but it felt exactly as if he had gained entry and found nothing interesting – he felt ..satisfied. The sensation convinced one that it would be a waste of time to probe further.   
Knowing the unavoidable effect of the jewel he was tempted to remove it again immediately until he released her, but since that was to be quite soon, it was probably not worth the trouble. He did make a note to himself to remove it first thing, whenever she came into his presence from now on. 

“It works perfectly” he assured her and the girl smiled, relieved. He stroked her cheek with a finger and she leaned into it like a cat.   
“The chain does not belong to the necklace” he said, looking at her intently to focus her attention. This was important.   
“I have placed charms upon the chain.. not the stone. If you are in peril and the chain is touching your skin.. I will know. If you need to come to me, it will function in a way not entirely dissimilar to the dark mark. I will be able to apparate to your side, assuming there are no wards preventing this, however you will not be able to apparate to me.   
You may call upon my attention by placing your wand to it and incanting ‘praetor’” Hermione smiled, recognising the reference.   
“You do not need to speak it aloud provided you think it coherently. If you call upon me I will come and retrieve you if I am able or will send someone to do so – therefore you must ensure that you will not be discovered wherever you are.”

He hesitated “You..may.. also call upon me in the dire situation that you have been discovered and cannot salvage things. If, under those circumstances, you are unable to get to a position of safety outside warded areas – for example you are about to be restrained – you should activate the necklace with the incantation ‘esito’. I will know what has happened and...be assured.. i will reclaim you.” 

The wonder in the girl’s eyes spoke volumes.

He held out a slender hand and when she took it he pulled her gently up and seated her in his lap, curling an arm around her waist possessively. She immediately took the liberty of leaning into him and placed her head on his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.   
Once again he attempted to reason how he had moved from the serene and controlled position he was in this morning to the present state being ..snuggled.. by the Gryffindor mudblood ally of his enemy – his new apprentice apparently. It was bizarre.   
Her warm breath on his throat was not entirely unpleasant however. He felt himself starting to respond and sighed internally. He would have to send the tempting little chit back shortly. 

He looked at his bookshelves thoughtfully and, drawing his wand, summoned three books. In light of the enthusiasm with which the girl had chewed through the potions text he doubted these would fare any better. He had selected therefore, several more advanced texts: Cardimon’s “Forgotten Curses”, Prince’s “Unabridged Herbological Guide” and Senatus’ “On Power and Sacrifice”.   
The last was a complex philosophical treatise, however he felt the work which had greatly impressed him in his younger years might find fertile ground in the young witch. 

 

Hermione watched the books stack themselves on the table with great interest. A swish later and she was looking at a historical account of ancient Rome, a generic herbology text and a dusty tome on defense against the dark arts.   
She curled herself in tighter against the strong frame. “You’re going to send me back now, aren’t you” she asked sadly, already knowing the answer.

The Dark Lord turned his head slightly, his red eyes peering down at her in the crook of his neck. “Yes, my dear. It is already nearing four in the evening. You have been out shopping for a considerable length of time by yourself.” 

She felt a pang in her chest.   
“When may I come back?” 

He hesitated. “You will be communicating with me in the diary, Hermione, and I shall see that your texts are replenished from time to time...” 

She swallowed. “Yes. ..thank you My Lord” she mumbled appreciatively. How could she explain that she wanted more than that now. More than her greatest desire; how greedy could one be?!   
She wanted to be able to touch him, like he was allowing her to do right now.. and leaving – she might not get to do this again at all.   
He seemed to understand. “I will find a way to keep you here during the break” he assured her. “Come now.. what did I tell you about whining?!”   
She swallowed and nodded, then, with extreme reluctance pushed herself up and looked into the unusual face with a stoic expression. The Dark Lord smiled, pleased with her response.

“Much better, my little apprentice” 

She looked at him in surprise. Saying that made it real. Was she really that?.. was she his apprentice? He said he would teach her but.. to call her that made it so much more.. would he really offer that?!   
He summoned a quill from his desk while she inspected him, her mind abuzz with that word. It was so much more than being his servant.. it was more than she would ever have expected.   
He was creating a portkey from the quill.   
It was a fine quill; Long and slender, silver dipped point, black feather with grey tip. She wondered what bird it was from as he pressed the quill into her hands, the portkey complete and ready to be activated. 

Hermione looked up at him sadly and leaned up, tentatively pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. He gifted her with an indulgent expression and surprised her by delving his fingers through her hair and wrenching her head back to kiss her roughly. Then he released her hair and swished his wand in a familiar pattern. She felt her hair braiding itself upon her head.   
“You still look so delightfully despoiled my dear. Allow me to assist you to obscure our afternoon’s activities from your housemates.” 

Her hair braided he urged her up onto her feet. “Enough. Take your books..” her diary sailed onto the top of the pile and he shrank them all down to pocket size for her.   
She had no sooner pocketed them than she felt the portkey activating, tearing her away. She didn’t even have time to look up before the room and the Dark Lord was gone. 

Nausea gripped her as the string wrapped around her intestines yanked her in dizzying spirals, dropping her roughly in some bushes.   
She righted herself slowly, sad that she hadn’t had a chance to look at the Dark Lord (Tom... he told me I could call him Tom!) before she had been dragged away.   
Looking down at the quill in her hands, she wished she could keep it - It was a lovely thing and a shame to waste – but it would only be a risk to Tom if she had it. Possibly someone could track the port spell on it if they knew.. She incinerated it with great regret and stood up to find out where she was.   
Venturing forth she found herself in the scrub along the road just past Hogsmeade. Nobody really wandered any further than Dervish and Bangs and it was unsurprising that the road was empty.   
She brushed herself off and set out for Hogwarts.

 

 

The Dark Lord sat and stared pensively toward his desk for some time. He was perturbed at his own behaviour with the little witch. Lucius and the Lestranges had not been wrong to react so to his treatment of her. It was unprecedented.   
He could justify it with her irreplaceable utility as a spy but it did not fully explain his reluctance to curse the chit..the affections he had bestowed upon her. It certainly didn’t explain the small feeling of melancholy he was experiencing now. It was entirely unlike him. Had she somehow hexed him? Was he suffering the effects of some potion? Something airborne perhaps?   
He scowled. It was a nice idea but less plausible in light of the fact that his wand had accepted the girl. Her magic was compatible with his own. Such things could not be simulated with potions or spells and magical compatibility would account for his aberrant behaviour more parsimoniously than hexing or poisons. He had intentionally bound her to him.   
He groaned at the problems this would no doubt bring.   
He could never let it be known that Potter’s mudblood was a potential mate. He would probably have to kill her in the end. He didn’t require a mate, merely a spy. He did not even possess the requisite physical capacity to reproduce anymore.   
That was the advantage of immortality – one did not have to be concerned with heirs, one could simply continue on without the burden of attachments.

 

 

Severus had just left the headmaster’s office and was in a foul mood. Telling Albus that the Dark Lord at least suspected him of betrayal and in all probability was certain of it had made virtually no impact on the man. Albus had steepled his fingers and looked thoughtful.

Severus wondered whether it was simply taken for granted that one day he would be discovered and executed. What had he really expected?!..   
When as a young man, he had thrown himself upon the headmaster’s mercy and asked for help, after the potters (after lilly) had been killed, he had been willing to give up his own life in repayment for his transgressions.   
Over a decade down the line, however, he found he had become more circumspect about that sacrifice.   
He had already given up his life.. His world consisted of idiotic brats and enslavement to two harsh masters who each demanded things of him day in and day out. We require more polyjuice, veritaserum and nerve replacement potion, Severus and I am running low on my elixir. The infirmary requires pepperup, blood-replenishing-draught and skelegro, Severus, and have you the wolfsbane ready? The list of mindless busywork went on and on. He would never have the chance to work on the things that truly interested him and one day he would simply be killed as a matter of course while the world went on unaffected.   
...He thought of Albus as his friend.. almost as a father in some ways.. Somewhere inside his heart he had convinced himself that the man would not truly sacrifice him for the greater good – not after everything he had done.. but the bald resolution on the old man’s face tonight told him otherwise. Albus would easily send him off to his death if need be. 

He was crossing the foyer in front of the great hall when Miss Granger walked in the main doors. She was wearing a flattering deep blue robe and looked to be lost in thought. It seemed she didn’t even see him.   
He positioned himself direction in her path, looking into the great hall as if considering entering.   
To his satisfaction the girl promptly walked into him and bounced off, landing on her bottom on the ground at his feet with a yelp.

“Miss Granger! Have you stuffed yourself so full of meaningless twaddle that your brain is unable to process basic sensory information?! Pay attention to your environment. Ten points from Gryffindor!” 

She frowned up at him but her expression shifted almost immediately to one of contrition. “I’m sorry Professor Snape. You’re right. I was miles away. It won’t happen again, sir.” 

He smirked internally and loomed over her.   
“I do not imagine you will alter your entire trivia-squirrelling, daydreaming nature from this moment forth and I doubt you truly intend to. Ten points for lying to a member of staff. Now get up before someone trips over you and ends up in the infirmary.”  
Leaving her on the floor, he turned on his heel and strode away, his cloak snapping behind him. The warm rush of satisfaction actually successfully banished Albus from his mind for a moment.

He had almost reached his quarters when the thought occurred to him. The little know-it-all was quite adequate in potions. Not inventive.. not particularly instinctive or insightful but certainly up to the task of brewing pepperup and blood replenishing draught. Polyjuice too, obviously, however to ask her to brew that would be to invite unwelcome questions.   
Perhaps he could request Albus for...an assistant, of sorts.   
He didn’t admit to himself that the girl had developed quite a lot in the last year and had become an attractive little slice that he wouldn’t mind tasting. It was a pointless line of thought. The girl was an underage student and therefore untouchable. She was also Potter’s little tool and hence doubly untouchable – the boy would lose his mind if he did anything to her...and realistically speaking, even ignoring the regulations regarding student teacher relations, it was unlikely an attractive, highly intelligent, extremely young girl would want anything to do with him voluntarily (Lilly hadn’t, after all), so anything that might occur would be grounds for deportation to Azkaban. 

That idea neatly sublimated he entered his quarters and immediately flooed Albus to request Miss Granger assist him with brewing potions for the infirmary. He had an excellent case prepared in his mind for why he needed an assistant and why it should be her.. however Albus seemed quite content to approve his request without argument.   
Ending the floo call he deflated somewhat.   
He moved to his liquor cabinet and poured himself a neat firewhiskey, then sat himself in his wingback nursing it and staring into the flames.   
Should he summon her tonight? It was a Saturday night, perhaps she had plans for the evening?   
He snorted at the idea of the (pretty) little bookworm having plans. She would be in the library studying needlessly or in the Gryffindor common room listening to tweedledum and tweedledumber babble on about quidditch no doubt. Perhaps she would appreciate a break from the routine. He sipped the firewhisky slowly and sighed to himself. He knew that he would appreciate a break from the routine..   
It was wishful thinking to imagine that Miss Granger would be happy to come down and spend her Saturday night brewing fourth and fifth year potions. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. 

Placing the firewhisky on the sideboard he strode irritably to the door and flung it open, glaring out at whoever stood on the other side. He nearly flinched back, seeing the object of his speculations on the other side of the door. 

“Yes, Miss Granger?” he said uncertainly.   
Had Albus contacted her already? He had only gotten off the floo with the man ten minutes ago. He hadn’t seemed particularly interested either way in the idea of Miss Granger brewing for the infirmary. 

The girl was shifting from foot to foot nervously. He could see her flicking her nail with her finger nervously. “um.. Professor Snape. Can I talk to you please?” she asked tightly.   
He raised a curious eyebrow “...by all means, Miss Granger.” He stepped aside and gestured impatiently for her to come in.   
When she entered he looked down the corridor quickly, wondering whether anyone had seen her go into his private chambers and then closed the door quietly. 

The girl was looking around the room as if on a different planet. She seemed to lock on to his bookshelves and be sucked into their gravity, drifting toward them slowly. He snorted wryly. Typical!   
“Well! sit down then” he snapped and stalked back to his chair and his firewhisky.   
Her eyes widened slightly, seeing him drinking.   
He rolled his eyes and sniped “Oh do wipe that look off your face, Miss Granger. I assure you, one firewhisky does not a raving drunkard make and it is Saturday. Why have you darkened my door this evening?”   
She frowned slightly and then the former nervousness returned to her face. “Um.. I was wondering Sir... that is.. do you think that..” She dithered. 

“Spit it out, girl!” he demanded.

“willyouletmeworkonpotionsoutsideofclass” she blurted rapidly. 

He blinked. “Repeat that more slowly” he requested, although he had heard her question and was now quite certain that Albus had not spoken with her yet. It was a fortunate coincidence that their desires in this area aligned.   
Miss Granger took a deep breath and started again, looking down and blushing “I was wondering, Sir, whether you might allow me to work on private potions projects outside of class. I’d be happy to help prepare whatever you might like, if you would let me brew other potions as well for experience..” 

He tilted his head curiously. “Which other potions, Miss Granger?”   
The girl’s blush deepened.   
“um.. a number of different ones sir..Haberforth’s Enticing Elixir, Emmerson’s Dreadful Deflating Draught, Renwhit’s Solution, Blusterbus Drops, Gren and Gables Geas, the Brilliant Bond Breaker, Liquid Confidence, Ashcroft’s Beauty Cream... and.. um... some others”

His eyes had widened involuntarily. Almost all of those potions were categorised as dark. Liquid confidence was definitely a darkish shade of grey due to the rather nasty things that users tended to feel confident enough to do while under its influence – it was classified as a potion of abuse – a drug, as it were.   
Admittedly he had brewed each of those potions when he was younger than she, but that was beside the point. They were all present inside one particular potions book and that book was not part of Hogwarts library. it was part of his private collection.. in fact his eyes drifted to it on the bookshelf. 

The girl continued. “But.. I don’t need to keep the finished potions, Sir.. you can have them or I can destroy them. I just.. I just want to try to brew them.. if.. if you’ll let me.” She swallowed nervously, her eyes fixed on his flagstones. 

He was not sure what to do.   
Well of course what he should do was give the girl a firm talking to and then inform Albus.   
What he wanted to do was agree and then use the evidence of her illicit behavior to blackmail her into bending over his desk for him on a regular basis. 

He cleared his throat. 

If he did the ‘right’ thing.. He’d be brewing all the kiddy potions by himself day and night for the rest of the year. If he tried to blackmail her into sex..Azkaban waved him in with open arms.. 

“...How, may I ask, did you come to know of those particular potions, Miss Granger?” he asked quietly.   
The girl flinched and then admitted tentatively “Fred and George Weasley.” 

He nodded slowly.. He had no doubt that those two had brewed a large number of dark potions.   
“Why do you wish to brew them? Hopefully not for anything connected to the dunderheaded duo..” He frowned at the idea. If there was one thing Potter could do without, it was more confidence... although he might pay a tidy sum to see him slipped the dreadful deflating draught. 

The girl shrugged.. “I read about them and wanted to try them. Potions aren’t really comprehended until you have brewed them.”   
He nodded again thoughtfully. He felt the same way. 

After a moment he decided. “Against my better judgement, I am going to allow you to brew the potions you have listed Miss Granger.. and perhaps others if you discuss them with me beforehand.. on the condition that you speak of your private brewing to no one...not Potter or Weasley or any other student, not your parents, not the other Professors – not even the headmaster.   
It is important that you understand that we both will face serious punishment if you are caught brewing those potions. You will give me a wand oath to speak to no one of what exactly you are brewing with me.” 

Miss Grangers wide startled eyes flicked up to his. “A wand oath, Sir?!” She said fearfully. It appeared the girl had intended to tell someone or other, probably Potter or the twins. “Yes Miss Granger. That way, we are both protected from your indiscretion” he needled unnecessarily.   
Her expression turned indignant. “Certainly Sir. Now?”   
He assented and she extended her wand and swore not to speak of any particular potions she would brew in the potions classroom of Hogwarts outside of class this year. He smirked at the degree of specificity she had used. The girl would have made a decent Slytherin. The small glow informed them both that the oath had taken. 

He lowered himself deeper into his wingback. “There is..one.. other small matter, Miss Granger..” 

Trepidation again washed over the girl’s face. “Yes sir?”

He inspected the last mouthful of firewhisky in his glass. “I cannot very well have you brewing goodness knows what after hours in my potions lab. There would be questions. Therefore you will assist me in brewing the potions for the infirmary.. and anything else I might need” He added the last part in a low voice as an afterthought. If he had the girl over a barrel anyway, there was no reason not to require her to also brew the simpler requirements of the Dark Lord. He threw back the remainder of the firewhisky, letting it burn a warm path down his throat slowly. 

“That’s an excellent Idea Sir” the girl said, surprising the hell out of him “I’d be only too happy to help you with brewing in any way you please.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Indeed.. Miss Granger? If that is the case you will not mind immediately beginning the preparation for two gallons of pepperup and one gallon of blood replenishing draught.” He held his breath waiting for her to make a trite little excuse and run back to whatever she had planned for her Saturday night. 

“...Of course, Sir. But.. I’m not exactly sure about changing the ratios of ingredients and I’ve never made that much of any potion before. If you could help me once, I promise you won’t need to again.” 

He allowed a small smile to grace his lips. Not only would she stay here for the next few hours, he would have ample reason to hover over her and monitor her progress. 

“I believe that would be acceptable Miss Granger.” He said with great satisfaction.


	4. Chapter 4

When Hermione dragged herself through the portrait hours later she was exhausted. 

Who knew it was so much work making large batches of potions?! It required so much cutting and cleaning and scaling and trimming and cubing and measuring and stirring and lifting.   
Professor Snape did this all the time by himself?! Poor him! 

She was on her way to the stairs and to bed when an “Oi!” halted her progress. 

Ron and Harry were sitting on the floor in front of the couches playing wizarding chess. She hadn’t noticed them at first in the firelight. It was almost midnight and everyone who was going out tonight had gone, everyone who was staying in had wandered off to bed. 

“Where have you been then?!” Ron demanded peevishly. “It’s the middle of the night!”   
Harry frowned at his manner. “What Ron’s trying to say is – we were worried about you, Mione..” he said quietly. “After..everything.. I get a bit paranoid when you’re missing all day.” 

Hermione felt conflicting emotions.   
On the one hand yes.. she understood. After Sirius died and with everything else going on..Harry had reason to be a bit insecure..   
on the other hand.. she wasn’t bloody stapled to his arse. She had the right to go off and have a day without him.. even if she hadn’t been doing.. what she had been doing.. 

She responded with forced patience. “I’m sorry Harry. I didn’t think to leave you a note – I was shopping all day and I’ve been helping Professor Snape with brewing for the infirmary all evening. I’m going to be assisting him for the rest of the year.”   
There was the predictable round of protestations and expletives which essentially boiled down to “but Mione.. its Snape!” She brushed them aside wearily. She was about to complain of her tiredness and beg off for the evening but Harry took her hand and pulled her over to the couch.   
Resigned, she sat and slumped into the backrest. “Guys.. I’m really very tired” she complained, knowing it wouldn’t make any difference. It didn’t. They proceeded to tell her about everything she’d missed all day (not much) and then to try to grill her about what exactly she’d done all day and what Snape had said and done blow for blow when she’d been in his private lab.   
She responded in vague soundbytes, irritating them both no end. Then Harry noticed her necklace. 

“Thats a really pretty necklace Mione.. is it new?” he said, reaching out as if to pick it up off her skin.   
She closed her hand around it quickly. “Yes.. it was my great aunt’s. Apparently she passed away recently. Mum sent it this morning.” Harry’s face became instantly sympathetic. “oh.. I’m sorry about that. Were you close to her?”   
She shook her head faintly. “I barely knew her.. but she was nice. She was very old. It was a stroke” she babbled on, one lie chasing the next. 

The conversation stilled for a while and then Harry said out of the blue “You look different today Mione.. have you done something new with your hair?” 

She startled for a second and then Ron added “Yeah.. did you lose weight or something? Maybe the robes are just slimming. You look almost like a proper girl except for your hair.” 

She suppressed the scowl that wanted to break out on her face. Harry was frowning at Ron and she could practically hear him thinking “You complete burke!”   
She shook her head lightly and patted Harry on the shoulder “No.. same old me. I’m going to bed, guys. I’ll see you in the morning.”   
Harry looked sad but nodded.   
“Ok.. night, Mione..” he said, looking up at her. Ron grunted a good night and then, finally, she escaped!

As she turned the corner in the stairwell she heard a smack sound and then Ron cursed and demanded “Ow!! What was that for, damn it?!”   
She smiled. 

Entering the dorm she saw two beds occupied and one empty. She wondered where Lavender was at this hour, since she clearly wasn’t with Ron. Quickly losing interest she nearly skipped to her bed, taking out the diary from its hiding place inside the bedframe and retrieved the quill and some ink from her trunk. The other books she had earlier placed in the bottom of her trunk along with last year’s potions and herbology texts – she had found that potions and herbology were two subjects where old knowledge was the foundation to new and past years texts could sometimes be useful.   
Undressing and slipping into bed she closed the curtains and cast impervious and silencing spells around her. Then she opened the diary to write about her day. She began. 

Dear diary.. I had a wonderful morning today. It was so good to get out by myself for a change and I found some good books too!   
When I got back from shopping I approached Professor Snape to ask whether I might work on potions outside of class for practice. He agreed in exchange for help brewing for the infirmary. Spent the evening with P.S. in his lab brewing. Not able to write about anything i brew there but the only challenging thing was the amount we brewed.   
Harry and Ron were waiting when I got back. Told me about their day. Nothing interesting. Flying.. maintaining their brooms.. lunch at the three broomsticks and then back here. They spent the evening in the common room playing exploding snap and chess. Sounds like I didn’t miss much today. Harry liked my new necklace from my great aunt. Ron is a massive idiot.”

 

Wonderful, hm?

 

The handwriting that appeared beneath her own was virtually calligraphy. Her heart leapt into her throat. She had a bizarre feeling for a moment and wondered whether this was how Ginny had felt in first year when she had discovered a strange boy with beautiful handwriting hiding in her diary. 

 

You should have spoken with me before approaching Severus. Did you tell him what you intended to brew?

 

Yes. He asked. You said I wouldn’t know if I had learned the potions until I brewed them. 

 

He must have asked where you came across the potions..

 

Ron’s older brothers run a joke shop – they are both pretty amazing brewers. I mentioned their names. I didn’t say anything else.

 

Acceptable. I know of the Weasley twins. They rejected the generous invitation to work for me. They are indeed inventive brewers. Not as good as Severus. Nevertheless they have unfortunate attitudes. Why are those gifted in potions all so difficult?!

 

They spend too much time by themselves and lose the will to obey social conventions? I don’t know. The Weasley twins wouldn’t go against their entire family. They are all very close. Besides.. What could you offer them that they don’t already have?! They opened their own shop. They can brew and experiment to their heart’s content now.

 

Perhaps. 

There was a long pause and then he wrote again

What was your impression of Severus when you spoke with him today?

 

When I first spoke with him in his chambers he seemed a bit upset about something. He was drinking firewhisky and got snippy when I apparently looked at him the wrong way, saying that one glass wasn’t alcoholic. He got better through the evening though. I think..

She paused and thought about what she was about to write. 

 

Yes? Continue.. what do you think?!

 

I think he was lonely. He started to relax more when I agreed to stay and brew immediately. He obviously didn’t expect me to. By the time I left (around 11) he actually made a joke that wasn’t cruel.

 

That is troubling interesting. Do you believe he desires you?

She looked at the page for a long time. The idea of Professor Snape wanting her was laughable. Because he seemed lonely, didn’t mean that he wanted to sleep with her.

Hermione?

 

I don’t know. I don’t..think so.. He’s never.. I haven’t noticed anything that would lead me to believe he fancied me. I think he was just generally lonely. Oh! I ran into him earlier too, when i got back from Hogsmeade. I mean.. I literally ran into him. He was just suddenly in front of me and I was daydreaming and then he was sneering down at me and taking points. He seemed in a terrible mood at that point for whatever reason. I guess right after that he must have gone to his quarters and had a drink.

 

..Perhaps it was general loneliness then. 

...Hermione, I want you to befriend Severus. Carefully! Do not flirt with him overtly and for Merlin’s sake do not reveal yourself but try to pay attention to the things he says.. the expressions that pass across his face. He is very good at hiding his true emotions but no one is in control all the time and if he does not suspect you, he may let something slip.

 

What will you do if he isn’t loyal to you anymore? I like Professor Snape, even if he can be a bit prickly. (or maybe because. He can be very funny sometimes even when he is being nasty) And he’s a brilliant potioneer.

 

I have not decided. If possible, I would prefer he returned to me. But I am not certain that I can accept such a deep and enduring betrayal. I agree, however, that it would be an unfortunate waste to kill him. It would depend upon many different factors. Do not worry about it for the moment.

 

...ok.

 

I can feel Harry. He has fallen asleep. He is weaker when he dreams.

Hermione felt a little strange. Hearing..Tom (Tom.. its Tom.. not Lord Voldemort. I’m not talking to Lord Voldemort!) .. talk about Harry like that brought the reality back into the room. She swallowed and suppressed a sudden mad desire to rush into the boys’ dorms and wake Harry up. 

 

Can you tell what he dreams about?

 

Yes.. usually. Right now he is dreaming about his godfather. I can feel it like a tiny niggle in the back of my mind. Not unlike the feeling of reminding oneself to do something later. A little nagging point of reference.

 

Harry has been having a lot of trouble dealing with Sirius’ death. I don’t know what to say anymore. I’ve already told him it wasn’t his fault.

 

Of course it was his fault. His godfather’s entire life was destroyed because of his birth. Were it not for Harry, Sirius Black would never have been sent to Azkaban, would never have been forced into hiding, would never have blazed into the ministry of magic like a rabid Gryffindor and met his demise..

 

One could argue that all of those things were actually because of you, you know..

 

Indeed? One would find it difficult to argue without a tongue. 

If you had worked as hard as I to attain immortality, would you simply take in your stride a prophesy about a child who might destroy you? 

 

I don’t really hold much confidence in divination actually. On the other hand.. I suppose I haven’t exactly been the subject of much oracular attention. Perhaps if someone told me I was going to drown, I might be hesitant about swimming for a while. It’s hard to say.

 

There you have it. It might all be a load of codswallop, but then again..what if it isn’t?! I refuse to die. I am not finished with the things I wish to do here. There are so many things I have yet to see...to learn...to do.   
And of course it would be expedient to subjugate the world. It is so much easier to gain access to books, people, sacred sites etc when one has an army behind one.

...I realise now that I should have handled the situation with the Potters differently. I was saying the same thing to Severus only today..

 

You spoke with Professor Snape today? Is that why you asked about him? What happened? What did you say you would do differently.

 

I did. It was necessary to send him to Lucius after your extremely successful curse. You were magnificent, my dear. I admit that I was surprised. I did not think you would have it in you. 

I told Severus that if I had my time again I would not have sought to kill Harry or his mother.   
I believe Severus was in love with the witch, although he denied it vehemently and scorned her publicly for her blood status.. It was an error which I have paid for dearly.   
I was much younger.. Impatient and overconfident and concerned about the prophesy. I reached for the simplest solution.

 

Professor Snape loved Harry’s mum?!

 

Possibly. He certainly despised his father. 

 

Poor Professor Snape. If he did love her, now he has to look at Harry almost every day. 

There was a long pause.. Hermione was feeling very sorry for the harsh monochromatic brilliant man with robes buttoned to the eyeballs. She thought about how he’d nipped bitterly at his firewhisky earlier. Could that be the source of his loneliness?! Then she thought about how he had unwound over the course of the night. He seemed to come alive when he was quietly brewing. It was something one never got to see in class. He was always tense and uptight and vicious in class.   
When he had been stirring the large cauldron earlier there had been an expression on his face of..well... almost of serenity. Peace. And he had looked over at her and smiled. She had been stirring her own large cauldron and the absence of vitriol or snarkiness in his smile had shocked her.

What if Professor Snape does fancy me?

 

You are mine.

 

Yes but..

 

I do not share.

If Severus has chosen you as the object of his lust then he is an extremely unlucky man. Twice he has selected witches that belong to other wizards. 

 

I hope he doesn’t fancy me then. I would hate to have to reject him. I really do wish i could help him.

 

I hope he doesn’t “fancy you” too. I offered him a boon earlier today... or yesterday now. If he comes to me and requests you.. he will force my hand. 

 

!!!

 

Is that your written version of an appalled gape?

 

Why did you do that?!

 

I was in a peculiarly generous mood. It is irrelevant. Perhaps I will take it back.

 

You can’t take it back if you want him to trust you.

 

I certainly can. Severus is quite aware of my whims. He was shocked enough that I offered it. He should have taken my offer immediately. He will be entirely unsurprised if I retract it the next time he transgresses... and it is so easy to find a transgression. He has not offered me any useful information in almost a month. 

 

What do you want to know?

 

I want to know where Harry is to be housed during the break; how the site is fortified; who will be guarding him; how the shifts will be arranged; who will be staying with him; whether he will be allowed visitors; whether he will be allowed to leave the site for any reason. 

I want to know the time and place of Order meetings and the names of any and all Order members. I want to know who their partners and relations are; where they live and work I want to know the items on the Order’s agenda and what they think they know about me and mine. 

I want to know what you are wearing..

 

Hermione smiled, a little thrill going through her. 

A plain white cotton nightdress. Dormitories.. i’m sure you recall.

 

Ah yes. I loathed sharing a room. Take it off.

 

She blushed in the dim candlelit box of her curtained bed, even though there was no one to see her. She felt..naughty.. thinking about stripping for a man who wasn’t even there.

Ok.. I’ve taken it off.

 

Do not lie to me, Hermione! Take off your nightdress.

 

Now she did gape in shock. How the hell did he know that she hadn’t undressed. Could he see her somehow?! She peered around the bed. 

How do you know?! She wrote rapidly, slightly distressed at the thought that someone might be able to see into her bed.

 

That is of no concern. What is relevant is that I do. Strip. Now. Or I will bid you goodnight and turn my attention to other pressing matters. 

 

No.. don’t go.. Wait.. I’m taking it off now.

She got up on her knees and pulled the cotton nightdress over her head, tucking it under her pillow and sitting back down again with the diary rested against her steepled thighs. 

Ok..

 

Good girl. Lie down on your stomach.

 

She complied immediately and placed the diary down in front of her pillow. It was less comfortable to write this way but manageable. 

ok. 

She thought for a moment and then wrote, feeling daring.

Where are you? And what are you wearing?

There was no response for a few moments and then the words appeared:

 

I am in my study, lying on the sofa. I must meet with a raiding party returning at some point in the next hour and am therefore dressed as I was when you left.

If you were here, I would have you kneeling before me with my cock in your mouth now..

 

Hermione felt a delicious little thrill race up her spine and a flock of butterflies took off in her stomach. Why did the thought of being on her knees before him excite her so much?!   
She thought about when he had made her suck him in front of ... in front of his death eaters.   
In front of Lucius Malfoy.. in front of Draco! Oh god.. Draco had watched her give the Dark Lord a blow job. How the hell was she supposed to sit in classes with him?! This was very, very, bad.   
Of course at the time it had felt very, very, good. 

 

Touch yourself.

 

The words shocked her. The beautiful handwriting made the order somehow more perverse. She blushed redly and countered

Only if you do..

 

You are in no position to issue conditions. My time is valuable. You do not want me to leave..therefore you will obey.

Slide your left hand beneath your body and touch yourself, Hermione.

 

She swallowed. It bothered her to feel trapped like this. He was right.. she really didn’t want him to go. If she could she would just crawl through the page to him right now. She didn’t want to spy for him to begin with. But this calligraphy commanding her was the closest she could get to him now.. for who knew how long.   
If she made him angry perhaps he would punish her by not talking to her like this.   
That couldn’t happen. She tentatively slid her hand beneath her until her pubic mound was in her palm then curved her fingers and swiped them through her folds, surprised to find herself extremely hot and slippery. She bit her lip indecisively. 

I’m very wet..

 

Good..

...taste yourself.

 

She gasped aloud. She had never done that. The thought of it was just wrong. She had never been attracted to other girls and therefore the taste of her own pussy had never really interested her.   
It felt taboo.

 

....Hermione I am beginning to revise my observation that you take instruction well. 

 

I’ll do it. Wait.

She slid her hand out from beneath her and brought it tentatively to her lips, extending her tongue she licked extremely gingerly over her slick finger. She could barely taste anything with the amount she had touched.   
Uneasily she slipped her finger into her mouth. 

It tastes... it’s hard to compare it with anything. Like sweet..salty..electric... I don’t know. It’s a very unusual taste. I’ve never done this before.

 

Sweet, salty, electric. An apt description, if a tad muggle... I thoroughly regret not having tasted you earlier. 

Are you sore?

 

...a little. I took a healing draught when I returned to my room..but..yes

 

I will allow you to refrain from fingering yourself then. Spread the moisture from your pussy over your nipples.

 

I..

 

...Growing tired of reminding you to obey me, my wilful little apprentice. Be thankful that i am not present to discipline you for your obstinance.

 

I wish you were.   
Or..really - I wish I was there.. If you were here there would probably be a massive fuss and people screaming and curses and aurors.

 

I was reluctant to send you back. Even now..I am tempted to change my mind.

The raiding party has returned.   
Alas.. – this is what comes of dithering and protesting against my orders.   
I must go.   
You are to play with yourself until you come, Hermione. Then you may sleep.   
Goodnight my dear.

 

She was about to write goodnight when all of the conversation they had shared vanished back to her original diary entry.   
She supposed that meant that he had already left. 

Feeling a sad yearning she closed the diary and placed it under her pillow then rolled onto her back beneath the covers and slipped her hand back down to her core. 

At first she touched herself half heartedly, but then she thought about him again.. He was half reclining on the sofa and she was kneeling on the floor sucking his cock hungrily. No one was watching, it was just the both of them. She heard in her mind that delicious little groan he had made and rubbed her clit faster.   
As she started to climb toward her climax the image changed and she saw herself lying on the sofa and he was kneeling before her, his serpentine face between her thighs, his cool pointed tongue sliding through her burning folds. Just before she came violently she had the image of those glittering red slitted eyes looking up at her as his lips drew her clit in and he sucked hard. That pushed her over the edge and she screamed out her pleasure. 

When her heart had calmed down she was glad she had placed silencing charms. 

Feeling somehow calmer than she had felt for the last few hours she turned over and soon slipped into pleasant dreamless sleep. 

 

 

The Dark Lord was frustrated as he dealt with the raiding party of experienced and novice death eaters. 

The young ones had reported to him first, describing the events of the evening as they saw them. He was bored and irritated as they gave him far more detail on irrelevant things that had been meaningful to them personally than they provided on actual tactically relevant factors. Only one boy appeared to be less prone to this novice error. 

“Nott.. perhaps you could summarise” he commanded impatiently. He was giving the boy a chance to prove himself. 

“Thank you , My Lord.” 

Ah so the boy did realise. He may be a tad sharper than these other dregs. Goyle’s son was even more dim witted than his father, who had in turn been exponentially less useful than his own father. There was perhaps something to be said for fresh blood, he mused. Half the pureblood offspring were just a carrot shy of a vegetable patch. 

He listened as the Nott boy began his summary. He was right – the boy was markedly sharper than the rest of the novices here. He reminded himself to see that the boy was advanced and given more opportunity to prove himself. He only half listened to the remainder of the briefing, although he praised the boy mildly and told the group they had performed well.   
In truth he was distracted.   
In the back of his mind Harry had started to dream about Hermione and while this had been part of the initial impetus for his interest in the girl, things had changed. She belonged to him now and the feeling in his mind of Harry potter kissing and touching her was infuriating.   
He called the experienced death eaters to him impatiently.. the chaperones, as it were – and rushed them through their briefing – the raid had been fairly uneventful. Nothing they reported was of any real relevance. As soon as he could he dismissed them and aparated to his chambers. 

Tossing himself down upon his bed, he strove to relax his body to the degree necessary for what he wished to do. It was difficult with this amount of irritated adrenalin running through him. 

 

 

They were in the chamber of secrets.. the basilisk lay slain on the ground. That was all that was based in memory. For the rest... the diary was impaled on the sword of Gryffindor and instead of Ginny lying on the wet stone it was Hermione.. wearing the blue fitted robes from yesterday.   
Harry had clearly not been bitten and was kneeling beside her, leaning over her and she had her arms around his neck kissing him. 

The Dark Lord stood behind, watching, mildly irritated. 

“Harry... I need you..” dream-Hermione mewled at the boy and started to take off her robes.

“Mione. ...not here” the boy urged her, laying his hands over hers to stop her.

“Yes.. here Harry! You’ve won! I want you here!”   
The boy seemed to relent and leaned down on hands and knees to press a heated kiss to the girl. He heard her moan. 

The Dark Lord walked quietly to the sword and impaled diary while the two tore each other’s clothes off.   
Potter was entirely oblivious as he stepped behind the boy, quietly removing the book that once housed a piece of him from the sword. 

Holding the impaled diary.. even if it were just a figment of the boy’s overactive imagination.. was peculiar. He wished he had been able to resurrect that part of himself suddenly. Certainly it was preferable to have his current body than to be a parasite on another or to wander discorporeally..   
...and his current form did strike fear into any onlooker..  
...well.. almost any. He thought of the girl again. And in that moment Harry’s dream-Hermione moaned again. She had her eyes closed and Potter was sucking her nipple. 

He looked at her body objectively.   
It was incorrect. The boy had never seen Hermione naked, obviously. Her nipples were a duskier shade and her form was more curvy. Potter had given her an athletic body.   
In his own opinion, the girl’s actual form was more aesthetically pleasing than this. 

“Oh Harry.. Yes!!” she whimpered and his ire rose. Her voice was correct and he did not like those sounds spilling from her lips. 

“Oh.. Harry.. Yes.” He repeated behind the boy sardonically. 

Harry stiffened as if petrified and turned his head to look, wide eyed over his shoulder. “Voldemort!” he almost yelped.   
The girl had opened her eyes and now looked terrified too, she clung to him fetchingly. 

The Dark Lord summoned both of their wands from the abandoned clothing and tucked them into an inside pocket. He raised the sword at the boy. 

“This is just a dream!” Harry said suddenly, relieved. “You’re not real. I can wake up whenever I like.” His manner calmed somewhat. 

The Dark Lord laughed. “Yes Harry. this” he gestured around them “-is just a dream. And of course the little mudblood is just a dream.. and how could she not be? Why would she want a weak insipid fool like yourself? I would bet your life that you’ve never even kissed the girl.” 

The boy’s face reddened. “Shut up you snake faced bastard.. what would you know?!” he growled reactively.   
The Dark Lord smirked.

“Do you..love.. her, Harry?” 

The boy dropped his head into his hands and tugged on his hair. He could hear him whispering “wake up! Wake up! Wake up damn it!”   
He snorted, amused.   
“Oh no, Harry. You won’t be waking up until we are finished here. You have interrupted my evening with your ridiculous little fantasies, but I will be generous. I will give you a material lesson in how to please your little crush.”   
The boy’s eyes widened to the size of saucers and he shook his head frantically. “No! Please! Don’t!! Please.. I can’t watch you do that.. please!! Just let me leave!”   
The Dark Lord smiled cruelly and drew his wand. “You beg well, Harry. But I am doing this to help you.. you should be grateful! Incarcerous!” 

Harry yelped as thin cutting cords snatched him from the ground and flung him against one of the tall pillars, binding him tightly in place. 

“There.. that’s better isn’t it?! You have a good view from there. Don’t hesitate to ask questions if there is anything you do not comprehend..” the Dark Lord smirked. 

The dream-Hermione was curled in a frightened little ball on the damp stone, her arms around her knees, peeking up at him. 

He looked to Harry. “Do you think she might be superficial?”   
He waved his wand down his body and the pale serpentine form melted away into the body and face he had had when he was a seventeen year old boy. The form the boy had seen when he had destroyed the diary.   
“That’s better, isn’t it?” the Dark Lord said softly. He turned back to the cowering not-quite Hermione. “Come here” he commanded softly. 

The girl looked up at him with wide eyes and shook her head. 

“Imperio” he flicked his wand at the figment of Potter’s imagination, lazily.   
The girl stood stiffly, her naked body irritating him with its incorrectness, and began to walk slowly over to him. As she walked her form changed slightly until it resembled the girl he had seen only yesterday. However.. as she came closer he did not feel that inner nudge to spare the chit pain. And logically – she was not the girl. She was an imagining of Harry potter. There was no interaction of their magic because the girl had no magic.. or had only Harry’s magic. He felt a dark rush within himself at the realisation. 

Hermione had reached him, her eyes dazed and expression serene. Harry started to scream threats at him about what he was going to do if he didn’t leave her alone. He flicked his wand at the boy. A silver and green ball gag snapped itself around his head and muzzled him effectively. His gaping O of a mouth was quite pleasing.. He heard the boy yelling desperately but the sound was muffled.   
Ending the imperio, the false-Hermione before him suddenly came back to herself and tried to back away. He grabbed her by the upper arms and held her in place easily.   
“Now, now, my dear. Settle down.”   
When the girl continued to struggle frantically and started yelling out to Harry, he backhanded her across the face hard. She crashed to her knees, her hand on her cheek.   
“Are you going to behave now?” he asked, smiling.   
The familiar face looked up at him fearfully. It was pleasing. He was controlling the figment now but he wanted her to struggle.. he wanted Potter to watch him rape her. It would be so much more distressing to him than if she simply obeyed. He would not realise that he was controlling her that way and one day.. eventually.. when the truth came out about the girl..it would break him. 

Hermione shook her head “I’ll never give you what you want.. It doesn’t matter what you to me. Harry is going to defeat you!” 

He pointed his wand down at her, still smiling, and pronounced, with some satisfaction “crucio..” 

Sighing he bathed in the echoing music of the girls frantic screams. Again.. so unlike the girl he had met to shriek and fuss like this but he supposed that was how Potter would imagine the chit.   
He snorted internally. His best friend and apparently he hardly knew her. 

He dropped the curse and watched the girl pant and sob, with his head tilted. Then he reached down and freed his erection from his robes. He didn’t bother to undress. It would not be necessary. 

Dropping gracefully to his knees he seized the girl and maneuvered her, despite her struggles, onto her knees. She screamed and fought ineffectually as he pinned her arms behind her back, pressed her face down against the wet stone and nudged her thighs further apart.   
Harry was screaming mutedly as he placed his cock at her entrance and thrust into her. She screamed and sobbed, unable to free her arms or move away.   
He fucked her hard and fast. She was just slightly dry, the way he preferred it, and the friction and his size had made her bleed. 

He made sure to pull out and show Harry the red smears on his cock.   
“She’s so tight Harry..” he taunted the boy before forcing his way back into the girl and fucking her some more.. He found he was thoroughly enjoying this.. He should have done this in the first place.   
In previous dreams of the boy he had simply watched, but not entered. He was intrigued by the images but not enough to show his hand and demonstrate that he could enter the boy’s dreams in this manner. Harry would certainly run off to get dreamless sleep and then he would lose this avenue of information.   
...well.. that would have to be prevented.. he decided to himself. If he could not reach the actual girl at present, he could make do with the toybox of Potter’s mind. He squeezed the hip he was holding to fuck the girl and looked down at her tear streaked face speculatively, then slowed his strokes and rotated his hips, enjoying the feel of her around him. 

It wasn’t quite like reality.. it had the muted feel of dreams where the idea of the sensation is divorced from the desperate disembodied pleasure. He knew that his body, on his bed, was stroking itself. 

Turning to Potter he asked with a nasty little smirk. “Your mudblood is quite a nice little fuck.. perhaps I should acquire her in the real world.. She is an inferior creature but I could keep her as a slave. Do you think she might like that?” he punctuated his question with a hard thrust into the girl, who cried out in pain.   
“Of course.. she would have to adjust to my current appearance” he sneered and drew his wand, removing the glamour of Tom Riddle. The look on Potter’s face clearly said that it was even more disturbing to see his current face and body molesting his best friend. 

He pressed his wand to the girls wrists held in his hand and affixed them there. Then he pulled out of her and flipped her over onto her back. Her arms behind her forced her breasts up into the air and she looked over at Harry desperately. He had her cry out piteously “Harry.. help!!..please!!” Then he forced her thighs wide and impaled her again.   
She screamed when she looked up and saw who was fucking her. He grinned nastily, his hands on her hips, pulling her down in counterpoint to his brutal strokes. 

Harry was yelling frantically. He looked to the boy who had wet cheeks. He was struggling against the bindings helplessly. 

It was beautiful to watch the anguish in his eyes.

He turned back to faux-Hermione and leaned down over her. Drawing his wand once more he cast an incandescent lumos. The girl’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.   
When he brought the wand close to her breasts she shrieked with renewed vigour.   
He stroked the tip over her nipple, the sizzle of burnt flesh drowned out by the bright desperate agony of her scream. It drowned out even potter’s muffled yelling.   
Propping himself on one hand over her and fucking her slowly, languidly, he proceeded to burn his name into her chest. The peals of her screams echoed around the chamber delightfully. It took a long time to write Lord Voldemort.   
He admired his handiwork. It looked quite pretty actually. Perhaps he might give the real Hermione such a brand. He leaned down and licked over the marks and then sped his strokes once more, soon panting with the sensation. 

Before he came, he pulled out and half rose, spilling himself over her face and over the name he had burned into her.   
“Such an unworthy creature does not deserve my seed” he spat, smirking and then looking up at Potter. 

The girl looked thoroughly defiled. Blood streaked her thighs and pussy. She was marked with his name and covered in his come. Yes.. he should certainly have done this a long time ago. He felt wonderfully satisfied at the agonized horrified look on Potter’s face. 

Scourgifying himself, he walked away from the sobbing wretch in a puddle on the floor and strode closer to the thorn in his side. 

“A good time was had by all..” he sneered down at the boy. “I really think, perhaps I should seek out your little playmate and compare dream to reality..” 

He released the boy’s mouth and Harry screamed incoherent words of hate, his voice hoarse. 

“Are you upset that I forced you to watch that?” he asked disingenuously.   
“Perhaps next time..I’ll allow you to join in, Harry. The little mudblood has two more holes to fill..” 

The boy seemed to collect himself, though the rage burned in his eyes. “There won’t be a next time, Voldemort. I’ll make sure that you can’t do this again. And you will never.. ever.. touch her! Soon you’ll be dead and I’ll piss on your fucking corpse!” 

He couldn’t prevent the smile from breaking out on his face and he laughed in true joy. “Oh Harry.. you’ve made my night.. such darkness..such hate..” He moved to the side allowing the boy an unimpeded view of the defiled dream-Hermione.   
“..Mione..” the boy whispered brokenly.   
He leaned in close to his ear. “You would like her this way, Harry.. so..soft.. so pliable.. Yours to command..”   
The boy looked miserable “No..” he moaned. “I won’t ever..” 

The Dark Lord sniggered. “Oh.. I think you will. You are halfway there already” He slid a hand down the bound boys body and stroked over the bulge that wasn’t quite an erection but was certainly not a state of complete disgust either. The boy burst into tears of shame and dropped his head. “Stop!.. please!.. don’t touch me.. I don’t want to see this. Please! Please let me go!! I’m sorry Mione... I didn’t mean to.. I’d never..” his words devolved into sobs. 

The Dark Lord laughed softly and removed his hand from the boy’s semi-tumescent cock. “As you wish Harry. Go!” He flicked his fingers at the boy’s face and ended the dream for both of them. 

Stretching slowly he bathed in the feeling of abject triumph for a few minutes. Eventually he yawned and waved his robes off wandlessly, climbing under the covers and slipping exhaustedly into true sleep, musing happily, as he drifted off, that the boy would likely not be getting much sleep for the rest of the night.

 

 

Harry sat up in bed panting in terror. His body was bathed in cold sweat and his cheeks were wet. He wondered if he had been screaming, his throat felt raw and painful.   
If not for the silencing spell he habitually cast these days after Seamus had made a wry comment about wet dreams a few months back, he would probably have woken up the whole dorm from the way his throat felt now. 

The full horror of the dream settled into his mind like black ichor. 

God.. Voldemort had been in his head again.. worse than ever.. that was even more horrible than his dreams of Sirius.

He couldn’t have that again. Couldn’t!   
And he’d threatened to do the same thing in real life.. fuck fuck fuck fuck – this was why Mione shouldn’t run off by herself for an entire day. He couldn’t let that sick bastard get his hands on her. He would protect her. She had to see that it wasn’t safe. 

It would be easier if she were his girlfriend.. she’d be around him even more of the time then. He’d know she was alright. But..she didn’t seem to even realise he liked her that way.   
He’d tried to hint. He’d said she was important to him.. that he didn’t know what he’d do without her. He’d told her about the dreams with Sirius..   
he’d.. he’d been trying to compliment her lately, tell her that he thought she was pretty, but his tongue always got tied and then half the time Ron would make some daft comment and ruin it. 

Did she maybe realise that he liked her and just pretended not to notice in the hope he’d get the message? She was really clever..and observant.. and stuff.. it was possible she just wasn’t interested.   
But god.. what if she wasn’t!? 

He loved her.. Watching her date someone else would hurt so much. She didn’t seem to be interested in anyone else.. and that made him hope. Maybe she just didn’t know. 

His thoughts returned to the dream like a tongue probing at the hole left by a lost tooth. He would never want to do anything to hurt her like that. Voldemort was a sick bastard.   
He needed dreamless sleep draught! There was no way he was going to go back to sleep and allow that to happen ever again. 

He reached for his wand to cast tempus and find out what time it was and felt..stickiness.. when he moved. Casting lumos almost unnecessarily, since he had a good idea of what it was, he raised the covers and saw the large wet patch on his pajama bottoms.   
His heart sank.   
Oh god.. oh god oh god oh god.. he’d come. It felt like he’d actually slapped Mione in the face. He knew he couldn’t help it.. maybe Voldemort had somehow made him.. but that was truly wishful thinking.   
No.. god.. but he didn’t want any of that. That was what was important. He couldn’t help his reaction.. seeing her.. but.. he would never want to see her that way..  
He only wanted to see her how she was in his own dreams. She kissed him and told him she loved him and he made her feel good. She made sounds of pleasure. 

Fuck. 

Well.. he wouldn’t be seeing any of those dreams again either it seemed. He couldn’t risk it.   
He needed dreamless sleep draught! 

Casting tempus he saw that it was four am. He could wait until eight or nine, he supposed, rather than waking Snape up now. He’d be in a murderous mood if he woke him, he bet..   
But... what if the bastard wasn’t there tomorrow or something.. he worried. 

He scourgified his pajama bottoms and reluctantly slipped out of bed. As quietly as he could he went into his trunk for his invisibility cloak. A moment later he was slipping down the stairs and out the portrait hole. 

 

The castle was freezing as he padded barefoot down the corridors in the dark, the portraits all snoring. The stairs moved sluggishly in the dark and he wound his way down to the entrance hall and then to the stairs down to the dungeons, his toes already numb with cold. 

Standing indecisively in front of Snape’s door he dithered for a few minutes. He wasn’t sure whether to knock loudly or softly. He wanted the bastard to wake up but he didn’t want to let any other Slytherin who might randomly be around here know that he was standing here. 

As it turned out, he didn’t need to knock at all. The door opened silently and Professor Snape peered out cautiously, looking down the corridors surreptitiously, a suspicious look on his face.   
The way he blinked hard, told Harry that he’d just woken. The paranoid old bastard must have set silent wards around his door or something.   
He glided in past him.   
The movement caused the sharp beaked face to whip around in sudden realization. He closed the door silently and the next moment Harry felt himself encased in ropes again. He thudded to the ground helplessly.

“Ow.. fuck.. Damn it Snape. Let me go!” he cursed.

The man felt around in the air till he found his head and then wrenched the invisibility cloak off him. “Mr Potter.. What a surprise. Who else might lurk around outside my door at...four am is it?! What do you want?! Some ridiculous imagined plot, I assume. Perhaps connected with the fact that Miss Granger is assisting with brewing for the infirmary? You are looking for evidence of some misdoing on my part perhaps?” 

Harry narrowed his eyes at him. “No. But you’re right – I probably should be. I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you! Let me out of these ropes now you bastard!” 

Snape was wearing a black bathrobe. A v of his skin was exposed. Not a large v.. but certainly more than Harry had ever seen (or wanted to see) of the man before. His white legs shone in the dimness beneath the hem of the robe.   
The Professor seemed to notice his eyes wandering in surprise and wrapped his robe around himself more tightly.   
“Manners, Potter. What did bring you down to the dungeons then. I assume it was not merely to ogle me in my underthings.” 

Harry blushed almost puce “Oh my GOD.. Fuck NO! I wouldn’t ..whatever you said.. I wish I could bloody bleach my eyeballs right now. I can’t even think about that.” He felt sick.   
The man above him bristled.   
“Focus, Potter. Why. Did. You. Come. To. The. Dungeons?! Answer!” 

Harry swallowed. “I need dreamless sleep. ..He ..got into my dreams again.” He looked away.   
A moment later he felt the ropes melt away and he was hauled roughly to his feet. The Invisibility cloak slipped off him as he stood, pooling on the ground around his feet and leaving him standing in his pajama bottoms. Snape took a half step backward, a strange look on his face. “Didn’t have time to dress, potter?” he asked quietly.   
“You know what happens to those who abuse dreamless sleep, don’t you? You cannot solve your problem by taking it every night.” 

Harry looked at him defiantly and folded his arms. “I’ll risk it.” 

The Professor’s face tightened. “You will not be given the choice. You are a foolish little boy, Potter. Dreamless sleep is addictive. After a certain point it is not possible to sleep without it – without sleep, the body dies.. Continuing to use it constantly is equally dangerous. The brain requires dreams to restore itself each night. In their absence, one becomes progressively more unhinged. You may destroy yourself on your own watch, Potter – until you have killed the Dark Lord, I am bound to protect you. I will give you two doses of dreamless sleep only.. and I will inform the infirmary that you are not to receive any more. You will have to either work on occlusion or tolerate the dreams.” 

Harry felt panic rise up in him “But.. but you can’t!”   
“I most certainly can and will potter.” Snape interrupted. 

He tried again “I ..I can’t just live with the dreams.. he was there.. he talked to me.. he.. he did things.. I can’t.. please!.. please help me..”   
He felt himself crumbling halfway through the sentence and crashed to his knees, his hands flying to cover his face, burning in helpless shame and desperation.   
His voice when he spoke was muffled. “Please Sir...you have to help me..”

He felt rather than saw the man lower himself to the floor beside him. “Calm down potter” the Professor’s voice commanded, more gently. “I will give you the potion for tonight. Tonight potter.. not right now. You will remain awake now. We will speak with the headmaster and see about resuming your occlumency training. Perhaps it will be possible to arrange for a practiced occlumens to shield your mind for you while you sleep, until you are able to do it for yourself. But for the moment you will return to your room. Wait here.” 

Harry climbed slowly to his feet as the Professor left the room, his white legs visible in the half light. There was no source of the light. It was simply possible to make out the definition of things. Perhaps a spell of some kind.   
When Snape returned with two small phials and gave them to him he thanked him reluctantly. It burned him to need Snape’s bloody help. He turned away and practically bolted out of the room, sweeping his cloak over himself as he went and rushed back to his room. 

 

 

Draco lay in the darkness staring up at the cloth canopy of his bed. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t seem to clear his mind.. the thoughts were racing around, chasing one another.   
Granger.. the mudblood Granger... He didn’t know what to think.   
She’d betrayed pothead and the light.. she’d....with the Dark Lord.. I mean...merlin!.. When she decided to go bad.. she definitely took no prisoners. 

He wondered what had happened after he’d disapparated. Had she... had they..   
he swallowed. 

He hadn’t seen her all day, although he’d looked around the school surreptitiously. Maybe he’d just missed her somehow. She wasn’t at dinner though.   
Perhaps the Dark Lord had killed her.   
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It was...right. she deserved to die.. but.. the image of Granger’s lips travelling up and down that pale shaft flashed through his mind again. 

Surely it was wrong of her to touch the Dark Lord.. she was unclean..a filthy dirty little mudblood.   
He thought about how dirty she’d looked on her knees like that. Definitely very dirty..   
But if the Dark Lord himself saw fit to touch her, then it had to be alright. She wouldn’t... infect him with her filthy mudblood diseases like his father told him if the Dark Lord was willing to touch her.   
She must be good enough to use that way.   
At least her mouth.   
He could use her mouth.. if she was still alive and he could get his hands on her without getting caught. He closed his eyes as his hand wandered down to his cock. He stroked himself off slowly, imagining Granger’s soft pink lips wrapped around him, her light brown eyes turned up to his as he dragged her up and down by her hair. After he had come, thinking of her mouth wide, tongue extended, begging for his pure seed, he found he could sleep finally. He drifted off with the image of the awe and pleasure he’d seen on her face when she had swallowed the Dark Lord’s come..He imagined her looking at him that way.

 

 

Bellatrix lay in the darkness. Her husband had fucked her..hard.. and said he liked it better when she couldn’t enjoy it. She felt frustrated and angry now and his faint breathing as he slept made her hands itch to curse him.   
He was not an incompetent lover.. he could always bring her off. She liked him from behind best because she could imagine it was the Dark Lord doing it.   
She suspected he knew that.   
If he did, he didn’t seem to care too much either way about it. 

Her anger twisted suddenly and articulated itself as self pity. She only wanted to serve him.. anything.. anything for him.. thinking of him had kept her alive for all the years in Azkaban.. Beautiful..powerful.. Master... 

The disgusting little mudblood had dared to look at him..   
Revolting little stain! 

She had been sent away.. she had been punished.. and the little piece of filth had sat on the Dark Lord’s furniture and seen her being shamed. 

If the vermin wasn’t dead, she would kill her! She would do it quietly. Find her and kill her. 

Rodolphus wouldn’t tell her what had happened after she had left. Perhaps Rabastan would be persuaded to speak of it.   
If the girl was in the castle somewhere she’d find her..

...and if not.. Draco would know.. Draco would tell her if the girl was back at school. 

This was not over.


	5. Chapter 5

Breakfast was subdued that morning. 

Harry stirred his spoon in his bowl of cereal aimlessly. Ron ate solidly, hardly looking at Harry –apparently the two had had a falling out last night after she’d gone to bed.   
Ginny sat with them and stared at Harry moon eyed. 

Hermione prepared herself a plate of melon and strawberries and ate thoughtfully, wondering what was wrong with Harry. Was he upset over Ron? He didn’t seem to be interested in Ron. 

“So... what are you both doing today?” she asked them. 

Ron grunted noncommittally and Harry shrugged. A moment later he seemed to shake himself and looked up at her with hopeful eyes.   
“I..need to work on my transfiguration assignment. What are you doing?” 

She sighed internally. That was Harry’s way of saying.. I need you to help me with my transfiguration assignment.   
She had wanted to start one of the Dark Lord’s books today. She’d been looking forward to it. Drat.   
“I guess I’m working on transfiguration” she said resignedly. Harry beamed gratefully. 

Ron scowled.. “Yeah.. I need to do that assignment too. I’ll join you both”

Noticing Harry’s face fall Hermione suddenly got a sinking feeling. She told herself Harry was just irritated to be spending time with Ron in a snit.   
It didn’t even convince her.. but she was glad as hell that Ron had invited himself. Being alone with Harry was not a good plan if she was right. 

She just about jumped out of her skin when Professor Snape materialised behind her on the left.   
How did that man move about so subtly?!.. he was dressed from head to toe in black in a great white room. It wasn’t as if he blended in.   
She decided it must be something in the way he moved. 

“Headmaster’s office, Mr Potter. Now.” 

Hermione looked at Harry, surprised. What had he done?! When had he done it – he hadn’t mentioned anything.   
Bloody useless spy she was if she missed something like this. Maybe it was some kind of notification. The Dursleys? Remus? 

“Harry?” she said uncertainly. 

“It’s ok, Mione. I know what it;s about” he reassured her, getting up from the table and hurrying after Professor Snape, who was already off and striding at a fair clip in the direction of the headmasters office.   
Turning back to the table she saw Ginny looking worried. “What do you think its about?” the girl asked her.   
Ron hadn’t looked up from his bacon and eggs. He had a black cloud of snit hanging over him almost tangibly. 

She pushed her plate away and replied “I’m sure it’s nothing serious..He’ll tell us all later I guess” 

Walking briskly out of the great hall she headed for the headmaster’s office.   
The gargoyle was perched across the stairs and so she slid down the wall beside it to sit on the floor and wait for Harry. 

 

 

“There’s NO bloody WAY!!”  
“Albus.. really.. you cannot be serious!”

“Harry, Severus, calm yourselves. This is the best solution. Remus is away and I cannot guarantee I will be able to remain awake to watch you. I am forced to take ...medication..at present that leaves me exhausted during the night.   
You must remain close to Professor Snape during the night. He will occlude you from Tom’s influence. And I cannot require him to sit in the sixth year boy’s dormroom all night. 

“Albus!!”

“No, Severus. The idea to occlude for the boy was yours after all. I will not discuss it with you further. You will assist Harry.   
You should have more energy now that you have Miss Granger assisting you with brewing.”

Harry and Severus looked at one another hatefully. The elder man slid his eyes away shiftily. Dumbledore had him by the short curlies. He was to view Miss Granger as a bribe, apparently.   
He felt mild disgust that his two masters could often be so alike. 

“Yes, Headmaster. Miss Granger has been very helpful. ...I will ..do as you ask. Please excuse me in order that I might retire to my chambers and prepare them for my new..roommate.” he said the word with distaste. 

“Quite alright, Severus. Off you go, my boy. I’m certain Harry will be down later on with his things.” 

Harry said nothing. He was looking at the headmaster incredulously. After the Professor had departed he demanded almost panicked   
“I can’t stay with him, headmaster. Snape hates me..and I can’t stand him either. He’ll end up poisoning me or something if I’m down there with him all the time. There has to be another way!!” 

The headmaster looked quite sad for a moment.   
“I’m afraid not, Harry. There..are..some objects that might help.. charmed stones..an enchanted pillow.. things of myth and antiquity.. but I am afraid that I am not in possession of any of them.   
Nor do I know of anyone who might loan me such an item. They are mysterious things and rare indeed.   
It will not be as terrible as you fear to stay with your Professor. Severus does not so much as snore. You will be safe with him.” 

Harry groaned seeing that it was pointless to even discuss it. The headmaster’s mind was made up.

 

 

“Miss Granger!” Professor Snape scowled down at her as he emerged from the stairwell.   
“Do you have nothing better to do than lie about the corridors in an undignified manner? Surely there is some book you could be ingesting compulsively?” 

She frowned slightly at his rude manner – he’d been..nicer yesterday. It seemed that might have just been the potion fumes.

“No Professor. I’m waiting for Harry. And I’m sitting up. It’s adequately dignified.”

The man’s face darkened slightly. “Is that so, Miss Granger. Well you may as well do something productive while you wait. Mr. Potter will be down in the dungeons shortly I imagine. Come along.”   
He gestured with a hand snippily and began to stalk away, stopping after a couple of steps when she did not move.   
“Miss Granger.. I believe I instructed you to come. Move. Now.” 

She got to her feet grumbling and scuffed off after him.

“And pick your feet up when you walk” he sniped back at her, turning the corner. 

Reluctantly abandoning hope of getting to take a look at the book on forgotten curses today she broke into a jog to catch up to the Professor. She was supposed to pay attention to both of them and Professor Snape obviously knew what Harry had been to see the headmaster about.   
Professor Snape could really burn through the corridors when he wanted to, she noted. She was having to almost jog to keep pace beside him.   
Darting a look at him she observed a small satisfied little smirk

“Sir!” she admonished, short of breath. “Please could you slow down..” 

Her severe Professor quirked a brow at her bobbing form alongside his. “I shouldn’t think so, Miss Granger. Keep up.” 

They made it down to the dungeons in what had to be record time for her. She threw herself onto a stool, resting her face on one of the potions benches in Professor Snape’s private lab and just tried to catch her breath.   
The snide comment from Professor Snape did not make her feel any better- “You spend too much time in the library, Miss Granger. What good will knowing the name of every figure in the goblin wars do you when you are being pursued by death eaters?! Physical fitness is more than simply cutting a pleasing figure.” 

She banged her head against the desk cursing to herself. She didn’t have to worry about death eaters chasing her any more.   
“Professor.. why is Harry in the headmaster’s office” she asked point blank. 

Professor Snape’s face was less informative than a wiped chalkboard.   
“I am certain that if the headmaster intended you to know, Miss Granger, he would have extended an invitation to you. Prepare a number 8 cauldron. You will be making polyjuice potion. I will return shortly to check your ingredient ratios.” He billowed off through the door into his chambers, closing it after him. 

She cursed again, this time out loud.   
Great. She couldn’t ask Harry now what was going on and Professor Snape was not going to tell her either, and she couldn’t stay in her room and read books of interest and she was under NO illusion that the polyjuice was for the infirmary. There was no legitimate use for polyjuice. She was essentially brewing for the death eaters.. which.. she supposed.. was fine too in a way.. it was just his manner..   
Gah..   
She set about beginning the ingredient preparation.

 

 

Harry wandered down to the dungeons. He had gone back to his room to find his bed made and all his things missing. No points for guessing where they would be.   
Ron hadn’t been in the common room and he wasn’t sure whether he had noticed the changes in the dorm.   
He’d have to explain to him and to Mione where he was and why.   
...He’d be vague. 

He’d explained to the headmaster what had happened and let him legilimise him.. well.. he hadn’t really had a choice he supposed. It wasn’t as if he could occlude the headmaster. But at least he’d asked and given Harry the illusion of choice.   
Just to make everything that little bit worse the headmaster had had Snape look at his memory too. 

The git hadn’t even bothered to ask, hadn’t hesitated, just drew down on him and forced his way into his mind. He could feel him there as he was dragged through the horrible experience for the third time. 

When Snape had withdrawn from his mind he’d looked upset for a moment and he and the headmaster had exchanged words under some kind of muffling curse.   
And that was when the headmaster had told him he’d be staying with the great git in the dungeons. 

This...sucked.. 

This sucked a lot. 

He knocked hesitantly on Snape’s chamber door and it swung open. He looked around uneasily. The bastard was nowhere around.   
He wasn’t sure whether he should just go in. Maybe it was a trap. 

“Oh do stop fussing, Potter and get inside. I would rather the entire castle did not observe you dithering on my doorstep.” Snape emerged from the corridor at the side of the room. 

Harry stepped in resentfully and closed the door behind him. As if he wanted anyone seeing him going into Snapes quarters. They’d think...   
He groaned miserably at the rumours that were going to circulate because of this. 

“Ah..there. Finally. ” Snape sneered nastily. “I had every faith that your undernourished little brain would extrapolate the results of the headmaster’s pragmatism if you had enough time.   
This is going to be unpleasant for both of us..however I imagine it will be marginally more unpleasant for you Potter.” 

Harry grimaced. The git looked disgustingly pleased now.   
“That’s all right..” he shot back at him. “If I have to have everyone thinking I’m gay, I’ll tell them all you’re a bottom and I get off on having you kneel for me”

The Professors eyes bulged in barely sublimated rage.   
Harry backed up in shock as the man stalked toward him and blocked him in against the door. His mouth twisted into a cruel snarl. “You really are a fool, boy. You depend upon me for your sanity.. for your very life..and you think to provoke me..”   
One of the Professor’s hands boxing him in moved to grip his jaw, tilting his head slightly, examining his face in a disconcerting appraising manner. 

“Back off” he growled, unable to keep the smallest tinge of fear out of his voice at the proximity of the larger man. “Don’t touch me.” 

Snape smirked nastily. “Oh? But to hear you tell it we are..well..acquainted, Potter.   
You have no idea of that which you speak of but I promise you.. If you contribute to the rumour mill around this school in any way that displeases me, I will educate you in these matters.   
And I assure you.. I will be ..pitching.” he released Harry’s jaw roughly, turning on his heel and stalking away back down the corridor he had emerged from. 

Harry let himself slump back against the door. That had been..strange.. Horrible.. bizarre.. frightening.. and..strange.   
Unless he was losing his mind, the bat of the dungeons had just threatened to fuck him. And he was supposed to live here?!   
How?!!   
Could this day get any worse?!   
He took several deep breaths and then followed Snape down the corridor he’d left through. 

 

 

Severus ran a hand through his hair agitatedly. How did the boy always manage to make him lose his composure like that? He only had to be in a room with the little bastard for minutes and he found himself wanting to throttle him.   
What the HELL was he doing threatening the boy like that? He just threatened a student with rape!!   
Merlin’s hairy balls there was no way he could have the boy in his chambers for the foreseeable future.

.and the boy was completely incompetent at occlumency. He may have just adopted the whelp until the end of the war. 

How the blazes was he supposed to serve the Dark Lord with Potter living in his quarters? 

Not to mention if one of the children of the Death Eaters passed the word back that the boy who lived was within his possession all night, every night, all hell would break loose.   
If the Dark Lord didn’t demand he abduct the boy, he’d demand he kill him or..something else.   
Possibly something very much along the lines of what he just threatened the boy with. 

Albus would have bloody known that. What the hell was he thinking putting the boy here?! He should have called the werewolf back to watch over him.   
And who would watch over Miss Granger?! Albus hadn’t even mentioned her - as if she were entirely irrelevant.   
From Potter’s dream, the little muggleborn was going to be high on the Dark Lord’s priorities. He fully expected to hear orders to acquire her when he went to the next summons. 

The way the Dark Lord had looked at the girl.. it was..unusual..to say the least. He was almost tempted to allow Potter to have another dream so that he could compare it. 

He slammed back into the lab closing the door behind him.   
The girl had jumped at the sound. He so enjoyed making her flinch like that..  
Her expression would shift for a microsecond to one of relief when she saw it was him and then she would look at him with this cross little reproof afterward. It was somehow...overly familiar. The kind of look one gave a friend.   
She’d always done it.   
He’d always valued that tiny second of relief. 

“Are you ready?” he demanded impatiently, seeing by the preparations that she was indeed in essence ready, although she had prepared too much iron and saltpetre and too little fluxweed. 

She looked back at him uncertainly. 

He went to the stores, taking more full-moon fluxweed and depositing it with the rest. 

As I’m certain you’re aware, you will prepare the polyjuice in the cauldron in which the lacewings have been stewing. I recommend lowering the bench or employing a stepladder, Miss Granger.” 

He moved to her ingredients and levitated off a portion of iron and saltpetre each, sending it to the potion stores.   
“The ratios are now adequate. Remember the amounts you have before you now.. I will monitor your brewing today but in future, this will be one of the potions you may brew for me unattended.”   
The girl nodded, peering at the array of ingredients carefully.   
“Begin” he intoned, seating himself upon a stool at the side and watching the girl as she methodically worked by heart through the stages of brewing. 

It was gratifying to have an excuse to sit and stare at her.   
He was thinking idly about Potter’s dream and wondering whether the boy had seen Miss Granger unclothed or if it was all speculation, when there was a knock on the door. 

“Snape? Are you in there?!” Harry’s voice called. 

Miss Granger whirled in shock at hearing Harry from inside his quarters and responded automatically “Harry?!!” 

The door opened immediately and Potter’s head peered around the edge of the door. He shot him a filthy look which the boy ignored completely. 

“Mione.. what are you doing here?!”   
He sniffed and pulled a face. “Polyjuice?! What are you making that for – I thought you were brewing for the infirmary?!” 

He interrupted whatever she was about to say. “No Mr Potter.. I said that she was assisting me. I brew many different things. This is one potion that falls within Miss Granger’s range of expertise.” 

The boy’s face took on its customary oppositional-defiant expression   
“You’re having her brew for Death Eaters aren’t you?!   
You know damn well that potion might be used against her if-“

“Enough Mr Potter. I know no such thing. There are potions which may be brewed and potions which must be brewed. This is one of the latter.   
If Miss Granger takes some of the basic potions off my hands, I will have more time to apply to more demanding brews such as wolfsbane ..or nerve regenerating draught.   
Cease your childish tantrums now. You are not obligated to remain in my quarters all day, Potter. Go and play with your little friends.” 

The boy stuck his chin out. “No.. I’m staying with her. I don’t trust you, Snape. Who knows what you might slip into her pumpkin juice after what you said out there.” 

Hermione watched them both with interest, one eye on her potion, her hand moving slowly through the figure eight stirring pattern. It was thickening up nicely.   
She was relieved that the two people she was supposed to watch were both in the same place and quite keen to remain in her presence. It made everything much easier. 

“Harry?” she asked softly. 

Her friend recognised the tone of voice and ducked his shoulders slightly. “Don’t ask me Mione..” he said quietly. “I don’t want to talk about it, ok?”

She frowned and turned back to the potion feeling irritation bowl over her unexpectedly.   
“Fine.” She said as patiently as she could manage.   
“If you change your mind and want to talk to someone.. let me know. Otherwise – didn’t you say you had a transfiguration assignment to work on?!” 

Harry looked hurt at her blatant dismissal. In her peripheral vision she thought she saw Snape looking smug. 

“..Ok Mione. We’ll talk later..alright? When Ron and Ginny are there. I’ll tell you all at the same time.” 

She nodded curtly and he hesitated, then slipped back out the door, closing it quietly behind him.   
She added the boomslang skin to her potion and stepped back. Now all that remained was to allow it to stew for another nine days. 

Professor Snape was not saying anything, although he looked at her speculatively.   
“What?!” she demanded snippily.   
His face became blank as driven snow and he raised his eyebrows questioningly. “I don’t believe I addressed you, Miss Granger. But I think I will allow you to work on one of your..private.. potions now, if you wish. You may select one of your choice.” 

She brightened considerably. That, she had not expected.   
Perhaps Professor Snape was pleased she had hurt Harry’s feelings. If that was the case he was going to be delirious when he learned she had sold him out to the Dark Lord.   
A slight pall tinted her bright feelings at that thought. She really had, hadn’t she?! She’d essentially stabbed him in the back, brought Voldemort his head on a gold platter.. She was going to go back to her room tonight and report on him.. hell.. she was going to report on them both. And Professor Snape was offering her the chance to brew for pleasure with him. 

She really was despicable. 

But maybe... Professor Snape could be saved.

“Thank you Professor!!” she said brightly. “Can I work on...um.. Gren and Gables Geas?” 

The sable-haired man’s eyes may have widened almost imperceptibly but she couldn’t be certain. “Certainly. I will be retaining the finished potion however. I cannot risk that particular brew floating around the school..   
I am confident you are aware where it will go when you have completed it... It is hardly something one could use in an infirmary. Nevertheless I am sure someone will put it to use in some manner.   
Can you accept that.. Miss Granger? You know its purpose..” 

She frowned at him slightly. Was he trying to feel her allegiance out?!   
Good grief.. the Dark Lord had warned her that he was observant.. and she had known it herself from the last six years with him.. but she didn’t think she’d done anything worthy of suspicion at this stage.

She responded somewhat reticently. “Yes Professor. I know what it can be used for.. however I only want to brew it. I wouldn’t mind if we tipped it down the sink afterward.. and if they wanted that potion – I am confident you would already be brewing it for them.” She looked at him baldly.   
His face showed no indication of what he might be thinking as he nodded and gestured toward the potion stores. “Then by all means, Miss Granger. Let us brew liquid Imperius.” 

 

It was several hours later that they finished. The geas was quite a complex potion. At one stage she had gotten muddled up about whether it was three clockwise to one anticlockwise or the reverse and she had been lucky Professor Snape was watching her closely.   
He didn’t seem overly bothered by her near error but he stood very close looking over her shoulder for the rest of the time, which was somewhat daunting. 

Professor Snape always smelled of dry herbs and licorice.   
She knew the licorice smell was from a particular astringent cleaner which the cauldrons needed to be cleaned in to remove every last trace of their contents. Scourgify’s were inadequate to remove particulate rests. Although students in detention would often clean cauldrons, it was unthinkable that the Professor might invite them into his private lab to clean there and he was almost constantly brewing in the room, meaning he was almost constantly cleaning cauldrons. So there was always a faint lingering licorice scent. 

She liked the scent of licorice so it wasn’t unpleasant and it combined well with the quiet herby scent. It suited him somehow. 

At the moment they were sitting in his study and she was wondering what she was still doing here on her Sunday afternoon when she had three tempting books to read.   
She was sipping a cup of lemon tea with honey and feeling out of place when a book dropped into her lap. A book she recognised. She looked down at it and said nothing as the Professor seated himself in his wingback chair and picked up his own green tea. 

“I would invite you to familiarise yourself with the potions in that book once more Miss Granger, before beginning your next selection. Had you slipped up with the stirring instructions today, the potion would have been ruined. You may refer to the text while you are in my quarters.” 

She picked up the book and ran her fingers over the embossed leather cover.   
“Thank you, Professor” 

This copy was more worn than the Dark Lord’s had been. “How old were you when you finished them all?” she asked curiously.   
He smirked.   
“Twelve, Miss Granger. However I had a use for many of the brews and a wealthy patron willing to pay for them.” 

She wrinkled her forehead, wanting to ask who it was, doubting that Tom would have required the brewing skills of a twelve year old.   
“Professor..What would you be working on if there weren’t ..you know.. the war..and Harry.. and everything?” she asked softly. 

The man looked at her in mild surprise.

“Do you know.. you are the only person to ever ask that, Miss Granger.” He seemed to think for a while.   
“When I was younger, and far more arrogant, I hoped to duplicate the philosophers stone.. I suppose I would still enjoy dedicating myself to that end.. It would be a work of many decades I imagine.. if I ever succeeded at all. In all probability I would not.   
I should also like to experiment with cognitive enhancers..nerve regeneration in the field of severe cruciatus injuries and memory loss and no doubt that would be a far more productive field of endeavour..” He hesitated and a minor twinge of guilt flickered for a millisecond, she was almost certain.   
“...Perhaps I could also be persuaded to work on improvements to wolfsbane.. or different approaches to curing the affliction itself.” 

Pensively he stared at the fire. 

“There are many areas I might devote myself to, had I the opportunity to do so. Unfortunately...I rather doubt that that will ever come to pass, therefore it is an idle speculation.” 

She looked at him, concerned. “What do you mean? If Harry wins..-” Professor Snape interrupted her “if I survive to see Mr Potter defy all the odds and defeat the Dark Lord, then I will be placed in Azkaban.   
Perhaps.. if the headmaster is alive, I may be allowed to remain at Hogwarts teaching-“   
His face showed no enthusiasm for this prospect   
“-although I very much doubt it.” 

“In all likelihood, the best case scenario would probably be that I might be incarcerated and required to brew for the Ministry.”

She looked at him horrified. “But..” she started to say, wanting to express something like ‘they wouldn’t do that.’ Or ‘that’s not fair’ and unable to face either of the insipid blatantly questionable statements. 

He snorted at her, amused by her naivete.   
“The ministry of magic would be as compassionate a master as the Dark Lord, I have no doubt. Perhaps even less so.. At least the Dark Lord allows me to go about my own affairs to some extent if I provide him with whatever he desires.”

Hermione felt a pang in her heart at the poor man’s situation. He was in it up to his eyeballs, no hope of freedom or a life after the war and he was still doing everything to save Harry and bring down the Dark Lord..   
..assuming that was actually what he did...   
..assuming that he wasn’t truly loyal to Tom. 

“What..what will happen to you if Harry loses?” she asked quietly. 

The Professor was silent for a long time. Finally he answered. “If you complete all the potions in that book within the next two weeks Miss Granger, I will allow you to work on Grey’s ‘Poisons Sweet and Cruel’... would you like that?”  
He watched her unreadably. 

She felt a leap toward the idea of Professor Snape willingly allowing her access to banned dark arts texts but it was also more than merely suspicious.   
“Why would you do that, Professor?” she questioned softly. 

The man hesitated and then smirked darkly.   
“You are correct to wonder.. I should not be contributing to your fall to the dark arts, Miss Granger. I more than all others here know how ...seductive.. they can be.” 

She became distracted by the movement of his finger upon his cup, it was stroking up and down the porcelain and for a sudden moment she thought of his finger stroking her breast.   
She swallowed and darted her eyes to his face shocked at herself. 

He was smiling knowingly. 

She reassured herself... he can’t see my thoughts, he can’t see my thoughts.. I’m wearing the necklace.   
She countered with redirection.   
“Do you regret having learned anything that might be considered dark, then?” 

She was surprised when Professor Snape laughed in a manner that could not be argued to be anything but sinister.   
“In my most maudlin, if I am deep in my cups, I occasionally do.. ...however, most days I merely struggle to convince myself that I do not want to utilise..my knowledge.”   
He paused and seemed to struggle with the temptation to speak further.

“yes?...” she prompted, having the feeling she probably should be shutting the conversation down and excusing herself..but not quite ready to.   
Her word seemed to inflame his eyes further.

“You tempt me, Miss Granger. I see you ambling gaily toward the precipice and it reminds me of my own fall..   
I should be warning you off... building fences to protect you from your own curiosity.. but part of me wants to accompany you on your way down.   
On some level..even if I might ostensibly engage in argument with my conscience, on some level I have already decided to allow you to corrupt yourself.   
For that reason I offer you a book slightly darker than the one you are working from now.” 

“Poisons are straightforward, Miss Granger.   
By that I do not mean they are simple to brew.. The best.. rarest.. most inventive or least traceable ones tend to be interesting to brew, with many stages of preparation and life threatening risks for the brewer at every turn. 

They are...exciting...and that makes them tempting. 

They are straightforward in that.. while one might use an enticing elixir or a deflating draught in an innocent manner.. one may self dose the deflating draught for example.. poisons are created to end life.   
In brewing them, one is aroused by the danger and simultaneously forced to accept the truth that what is being created is a weapon. A tool of murder.. of undeniable darkness.   
And the helpless fascination with said acknowledged evil work of skill is corrupting” 

Hermione parsed this enticing little speech noting the way part of her was requesting permission to go and leap upon Professor Snape’s lap and snog him senseless

“So.. in essence you are wondering whether I am at risk of succumbing to the dark arts.. because I brewed one dark potion” she summarised and sipped her tea to disguise the faint tremble in her fingers.

The man’s eyes flickered to her hand and then back to her face, a tiny smirk at the corner of his lips.   
“In essence..” he agreed and looked away, standing up. 

She followed him with her eyes as he walked across the room to the bookshelf. He reached for a red book on the top shelf and when he removed it, its colour bled out and it turned black. It looked to be a different book entirely. The leather binding looked old and brittle.   
He walked over to her and sat on the sofa next to her. Slightly closer than was typical in a polite conversation with one’s Professor, she observed. He leaned back against the black leather of the sofa, forcing her to either lie back too or turn around behind herself to see him.   
She chose to lie back too. 

Unsurprisingly, the book he was holding was Grey’s Poisons sweet and cruel. He held it carefully, as she would have also done with that binding. 

She finished her tea and leaned forward to put it on the coffee table. When she leaned back it seemed like he was even closer. 

Tentatively, as if he was worried she might suddenly fling it into the fire, he offered her the book. “Page ninety two” he directed. 

She handled the text reverently and cautiously opened it to 92, balancing it and not spreading its covers too widely. The expression on Professor Snape’s face indicated that he approved. 

Page 92 was Aphrodite’s revenge.   
She read swiftly. Apparently it was called this because it was frequently used by assassins topically. After applying sealing and impervious charms it would be spread on the skin of lips or..intimate areas of the assassin.. and absorbed through the skin of the victim who came in contact with that area.   
It led to a delayed but indescribably painful (due to the stonefish secretion contained in it) topical effect of the affected body part, which would tend to be lips, tongue, hand or genitalia, and a slow and entirely incurable collapse of the soft internal organs, veins and capillaries.   
While this occurred, neuronal fibres were preserved, allowing the victim to experience horrific pain while they bled from every orifice, right up until they drowned in their own blood. 

Hermione swallowed nervously. That sounded awful..   
She had heard of stonefish. Apparently their venom was so painful that those affected would beg for the limb to be amputated. She couldn’t begin to comprehend the pain that..um.. a genital application of the poison might evoke. 

She read down the page curiously to the brewing instructions..ignoring the soft low chuckle at her side at her continued interest.   
Professor Snape was right.. the brewing of this poison was incredibly involved. It would take a month to prepare and there were at least five..no six.. places where direct handling of venoms or poisonous secretions was required.   
“You’ve brewed this?” she asked faintly. 

His voice was like dark rich chocolate when it came.. “I have brewed all of these potions, Hermione.. and hundreds of others.. I have been fascinated with the art for three and a half decades.” 

She looked at him startled. She had never before heard Professor Snape use her first name. “Sir?” she asked uncertainly. He took the book from her gently without looking away and placed it closed on the far side of the sofa.   
She felt as if she were slightly dizzy. His eyes were incredibly dark; like black stones.   
Struggling to retain perspective and remember what the point of being here was she asked weakly “What made you turn away from the dark arts?” 

He smirked wryly.. “One never truly turns away from the dark arts, Hermione. The temptation is always present.”   
He reached out slowly and captured a curl of her hair, twirling it around his finger. Her eyes widened and she swallowed, on the brink of jumping up and running out of his quarters into the corridor and relative safety.

“Did you join the Death Eaters so that you could practice dark arts? Was that why?” She asked hesitantly. 

He looked thoughtful as if he were truly considering the question. “Perhaps.. in part.” He responded lowly.   
“There were other reasons. My associates were involved with the group. The Dark Lord promised me things I desired very much at the time.. but a large part of my reasons for joining was possibly in order to brew whatever I chose.. to receive acclaim for spells and curses I developed, irrespective of their perceived moral rectitude.” 

She frowned   
“But you don’t get to work on anything you want to work on, Professor. Was it always that way? Is that why you wanted to leave?” 

Professor Snape seemed to shake himself slightly. He opened his mouth and then hesitated.   
A few moments later his face had closed like a blind had been pulled down and he said dismissively “No. No, Miss Granger. It was ..something else.”   
He stood up swiftly. She watched him go to the bookcase and return the poisons book, which became red and new as it was slotted in. 

“I have no idea what came over me, contemplating brewing illegal and dangerous poisons with a student. Please forgive my behaviour of the last hour Miss Granger. I believe I have..-” 

She leapt up and rushed over, babbling, afraid that she had just blown her chance when he had started to open up to her. “Please Professor Snape.. I’d like to brew them. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I..I’ll try not to be so curious.   
Please.. if I finish the other book in two weeks as you said.. can we brew some of Grey’s potions?” 

Professor Snape was, astonishingly, visibly indecisive. He stared down at her and his hand came up again, as if off its own accord and twirled a finger in one of her curls.   
His eyes, fixed on her own, as if upon a portent of doom, wandered to her curl around his finger before he withdrew his hand abruptly and stepped back.   
“I will think on it Miss Granger. I do not require your assistance tonight. Please leave now.”

She sighed and nodded.   
“Ok.. I’m ...sorry for upsetting you Professor. Thank you for letting me brew today..and...for talking to me..” 

Turning, she quickly slipped out the door into the corridor. She walked away from the Professor’s quarters with a lot on her mind.   
Well that certainly cleared up that question. Professor Snape did like her.   
He touched her hair. That wasn’t normal.   
And the way he had looked at her.. and..and toyed with her perhaps a little...   
This was not necessarily a good thing. If he had abandoned his loyalty because of Harry’s mum as Tom had suggested, then liking her and having her reject him for Tom would be just the thing to push him firmly away from the Dark Lord if he was on the fence. 

She wondered vaguely at Dumbledore letting her assist the Professor. There was no way he’d know. And the Professor probably did need help. Possibly at least.   
She wondered.   
If he did uh.. fancy her.. then it was possible he had asked for her to assist him to have her close at hand..   
but if so then Dumbledore would have said no, surely?   
And..-

wait..   
what the hell was Harry doing in there?! 

She was jolted out of her preoccupied slow thoughtful walk toward the dungeon stairs by a hand around the top of her arm that wrenched her into an open door of an old never-used classroom as she passed it.   
It was pitch black as the door closed behind her and she stumbled trying to right herself and pull her wand at the same time. 

The temptation was great to curse and demand to know who the hell did that and what they wanted, but the kind of person who would pull her into a pitch black room and close the door probably wasn’t going to apologise for it.   
She dropped low and quickly moved to the side of the room, feeling in front of her for the wall and getting her back against it then readying her wand as she listened hard. 

There was silence.   
She strained her eyes trying to make out anything in the dark, wondering if the door was locked and if she could make her way around the walls back to it. 

Suddenly she felt like all the air was being sucked out of her lungs and she was unable to breathe in.   
She tried to scream with her last breath but it was dragged away into nothingness.   
She slid down to the side, scrabbling at her throat, her wand useless since she had no idea what was cast or where her assailant might be. Whatever the spell was he had cast it silently and it probably had a black colour since it hadn’t shown up in the dark.   
Just as she started to see white spots before her eyes and felt herself slipping into unconsciousness she heard a soft snigger.

 

 

“Enervate” Draco watched the mudblood clench her eyes and pull a face. Yes.. he knew that the curse he had used on her tended to leave a bitch of a headache.   
She seemed to remember where she was and what was happening and opened her eyes panicked.   
When she saw it was him she groaned. 

He sneered, knowing he had the upper hand. She was on her knees, her wrists bound and tied to her bound ankles. There was nothing she could do to free herself and the room was locked and soundproofed. Nobody would be coming for her. When he was finished..to be on the safe side he’d obliviate her. 

But she wasn’t behaving right.   
She should be scared out of her mind right now and not glaring at him in annoyance. 

“Draco.. what the hell are you doing?! Did you get permission to bloody accost me in the corridors?! You are-“

He snarled at her “Shut it, Granger. You should have known what you were getting into. You are my inferior. A Worthless filthy little subhuman.   
Your kind serves on their knees and it just so happens I’m in the mood for your service right now.”   
He saw her eyes widen slightly and she swallowed. But instead of accepting her situation and making the best of it she just started yattering again.

“Draco you don’t-“

He didn’t find out what she was going to say because he put his boot into her side roughly, throwing her to her side on the ground.

“Silence, mudblood!! How dare you use my name! You aren’t worthy of it. You will call me Sir. Understand?” 

Granger looked slightly scared now and nodded.   
He reached down and, with great satisfaction, buried his fingers in her hair and dragged her up to her knees by it. She whimpered softly.   
The sound made his cock actually hurt he was so hard. He rubbed himself to ease the ache.   
He saw her eyes go to his hand at his groin and widen. She looked up and seemed to plead with her eyes.

“Don’t bother, Granger. You’re not leaving here before I’ve shot my load down your hot little throat.” 

She shook her head. “It’s not that.. it’s..-“ 

He ignored her, parting his robes and unfastening his trousers, easing his zipper down slowly   
Granger was looking extremely worried now, her eyes on his cock. He could almost feel her looking at him and stroked himself up and down, enjoying the feeling.

“He’ll know..” she whispered suddenly, looking terrified.

He frowned. That was not what he expected her to say.   
He had thought it would be something along the lines of ‘oh please don’t!’ Or ‘if you let me go I won’t tell’. Or even ‘You can’t do this. I’ll tell someone. Yada yada’   
She didn’t seem..right. ...The way she’d said it..

“I’m not kidding..Sir” She snorted at the word.   
“He’ll know.. and I don’t know what he’ll do to you.. Unless... unless he told you to do this. Did he?” She looked unsure for a moment. 

He felt unsettled at her insistence. She seemed so bloody sure that the Dark Lord gave some kind of a shit what anyone did to her.   
How delusional could you possibly get? Didn’t she understand the way the Death Eaters worked?!   
There was the Dark Lord on top, commanding everyone.. then the inner circle, who were all pure-bloods apart from his godfather.. and then the pure-bloods of the outer circle, then the half-bloods.. then the pure-blood associates and then the half-blood associates..and then somewhere way, way, down the food-chain after pure-blood captives and even after half-breeds like Greyback..came mudblood servants.   
There were only a few.   
Most mudbloods were just fodder. Victims. Toys... 

she was nothing but a full time slave. Hadn’t she realised?! 

“Shut your hole, Granger. Or rather.. open it. I’ll give you something to occupy your busy little mouth” He smirked and stepped up to her. 

She seemed frustrated, scowling. Abruptly she brightened and sighed. “Suit yourself.” And then she opened her mouth for him. 

He was so struck by the appealing sight of the bane of his school life on her knees before him ready for his cock that he froze for a moment just staring.   
He shook himself and moved almost flush against her.   
“If you bite me, I’ll smash every last tooth in your mouth out, Granger” he threatened, cock in hand, stroking it slowly 

She responded in an ‘oh so reasonable’ voice - “I’m not going to bite you. Would I have bothered to try to warn you if I really wanted you harmed?!” 

He growled and shoved his cock between her lips.   
He wasn’t even in all the way when his mark suddenly burned viciously. He gasped and yanked himself out of her mouth. ..The bitch sucked hard all the way out. 

He’d never felt the mark feel like this.. it felt like his arm was on fire.. he clamped his hand over it ineffectually.   
“Fuck..” he said, starting to get scared.   
Granger hadn’t been lying.. fuck.. fuck.. the Dark Lord somehow knew he’d touched her and for whatever reason disapproved. 

He was in bloody trouble.. again.. because of this goddamn fucking whore.   
His father had been upset with him only yesterday at the meeting for failing to find the little bag she’d had somewhere hidden on her.. and now.. now he’d managed to upset the Dark Lord again. 

He wanted to just swing back and punch her in the mouth but he was sure it would probably only make things worse.   
Flicking a finite at her bindings he pulled her wand out of his inside pocket and flung it at her. 

She was smirking at him and looking pleased with herself. \

BITCH!!.. he hated her SO much.. Fucking Granger!..   
He swept out of the room without looking back and raced to the entrance hall and then out and down the path toward the entrance of the school.   
By the time he was far enough along the way to Hogsmeade to slip into the bushes and apparate to the Dark Lord’s side, his arm felt like it was being flayed by red hot knives. 

He reappeared in a cell. 

The cell was empty except for one other person and he started to shake uncontrollably when he read the cold fury on the Dark Lord’s face.   
He was in his mind before he could even think to occlude and then he was pulling out everything since he’d grabbed Granger in the corridor. He had no sooner withdrawn than Draco felt himself levitated and flung violently against the wall of the cell. His arms were stretched above his head and manacles closed about them. 

He screamed his lungs out when the Dark Lord cruciated him and started begging immediately. The look of disgust on the alien face didn’t bother him in the face of his desperate need for the pain to stop...   
And then the pain did stop and the Dark Lord spoke to him.

“I realise you were uninformed as to the girl’s importance, Draco, However she clearly warned you.   
You should have abandoned your pursuit and sought my counsel immediately, irrespective how unlikely her words seemed.   
Let me elucidate matters for you. Miss Granger is off limits.   
She is currently significantly more useful to me than you are, due to her position with Potter and, to a certain degree due to her capabilities.. and as such.. you are more expendable than she.   
Should you prove unable to understand that she is not to be touched, your father may find himself short an heir. As you are the last of your line and your mother is now barren..I would think carefully on how you choose to react to my gentle warning. I am exercising considerable restraint with you at present Draco!” 

At that the Dark Lord sent an orange coloured curse his way.   
He screamed, feeling like his body was being skewered by needles on every inch of his skin, over and over and over again. It was the most painful and sickening sensation and it did not stop. 

He begged but the Dark Lord only sent a pale blue hex to follow. Now it felt like he was being skewered by red hot needles. 

The sensation was unbearable. He writhed and struggled against the chains he hung from and screamed for mercy.   
The Dark Lord smirked at him, looking satisfied, and said only “Take a while to think about what we’ve discussed”, disapparating only a moment later. 

He screamed and screamed helplessly, although there was no one to hear. In his mind he kept going over the fact that Granger had tried several times to warn him and if he’d just been thinking with his big head and not his little one he might be sitting in the common room right now with Blaise and Pansy and Crabbe and Goyle and not dangling from a foetid dungeon wall in agony. 

 

 

Hermione was very alert walking up the corridor toward the portrait. 

She had been very alert all the way from the empty classroom. She suspected she would not be wandering around the corridors daydreaming anymore from now on.   
Draco had taught her a valuable lesson. She should be grateful, in a way. 

She wondered if he was ok.   
He couldn’t help being a brainwashed prat. And he was pretty good in potions and charms and arithmancy too; almost as good as her.   
She had to respect that. 

He wasn’t stupid.. just ignorant. 

She ducked in the portrait and, seeing Ron and Ginny sitting on the sofa, tried to dart to the stairs without being seen. 

“Hermione!!” Ginny called out, preventing her escape.   
Now she would have to go and be nice for a while longer. She could have bloody slapped the irritating red headed girl. 

“Where have you been?! I’ve been looking for you since breakfast – Ron says that all Harry’s stuff is missing. It looks like he’s been taken out of the dorm. Have you seen him anywhere?!” 

Hermione made connections in her head.   
Oh..   
Oh...   
She felt another wave of sympathy for Professor Snape suddenly. But why the hell-... 

The voice suddenly floated up in her memory. “Harry is asleep. He is dreaming about his godfather”

Oh for goodness sake – really?!   
She would be inflicted with Harry permanently around whenever she went down to brew, all because Tom felt like terrorising his sleep a little?! God fucking damn it! She just couldn’t catch a break, it seemed.   
And she just knew Harry would be wandering in all the bloody time when she was brewing.   
She’d never get to brew half the interesting things she wanted to with Mr Morals down there. 

Ginny and Ron were still rattling on, speculating on why Harry was missing.   
She had had enough. 

“Well I’m sure he’ll come and tell us what’s going on... and when he does, you can come and get me – I’m going to take a nap.”   
That said, she spun on her heel and stalked off up the stairs, leaving the two staring after her. 

Breathing a sigh of relief at the empty dorm room she leapt onto her bed and closed the curtains, taking out her diary, ink and quill.   
As she had expected Tom had already written.

 

Are you hurt?

 

She smiled. Was it irrational that it meant more to be asked whether she was ok by someone who thought nothing of killing complete strangers?   
It was flattering beyond belief to imagine that he considered her differently than he did the rest of humanity. 

She knew it was just wishful thinking.. he was probably only concerned about his asset in the midst of his enemy.

 

I’m fine. Thank you for rescuing me..   
Is Draco alright? I don’t like the guy much but I wouldn’t wish him dead. He’s just a prat.

 

The response took a long time coming. She was about to close the diary and get out one of the books when he wrote.

 

Draco is hanging in the dungeon reflecting on his error. I would not go quite as far as to say he is ‘alright’.. but he will live.   
You were in the dungeons. Brewing again?..

 

Yes. I expect everything i brewed today will go to you. Including my private brewing..

 

What did you What is the potion in question used for?

 

Making people do a certain thing that you’ve imbued it with using an incantation.

 

Ah. Excellent. I am sorely tempted to request that potion of Severus immediately simply to check your quality.. but I rather suspect that might be suspicious.

 

Did you do something to Harry?

 

What has happened?

 

He’s being moved to stay in the dungeons with Professor Snape. I’m going to continually have him underfoot down there now. Was whatever you did necessary?! 

 

He was dreaming about you. I stepped in and took over. It may have been somewhat traumatic for the boy.   
You would look stunning with my name burned into your flesh, you know..

 

Which name?

 

Touché

 

Professor Snape definitely fancies me. He said he wants to let me corrupt myself with the dark arts so he can join me for the ride, or something like that.   
He offered to brew poisons with me after we finish these twelve potions. 

 

Did he now?.. interesting. Tell me about Harry and Severus today.

 

Harry was depressed at breakfast I think. He wanted to spend time alone with me later but Ron invited himself along, purely to be an ass.   
They apparently had a bit of a fight last night after I went to bed and aren’t talking now.

Harry was called to the headmaster’s office during breakfast. I went after him to wait for him but Professor Snape came out first and insisted I go to the dungeons with him and brew.   
While I was brewing for you, Harry came in, recognised the smell and pitched a fit that I was brewing something that ‘might be used against me’   
Professor Snape shut him up pretty quickly.

I take it that they think you’re going to have me abducted?

 

I would imagine so. I told Harry I might find out whether the real you was as enjoyable.   
Of course the real you is infinitely more enjoyable, my dear. Besides.. I feel it would be difficult to rape you now.

 

You raped me in Harry’s dream??!!

 

Yes. In the Chamber of Secrets no less. With Harry tied to a pillar watching. It was eminently satisfying. 

 

I’m sure its twisted of me to find that a turn-on.. 

 

Oh don’t fret.. Poor Harry found it a turn on too. He was terribly ashamed and said he would take dreamless sleep every night from now on so that I couldn’t do it again.   
oh.. and he’s going to ‘piss on my corpse’ apparently. 

 

If he takes dreamless sleep every night he’ll end up mad. He must know that?!

When you did it were you yourself or did you look like your younger version from the diary?

 

You really *are* turned on by the idea, aren’t you! ...How delicious..

Both. I altered my appearance to that of my seventeen year old self to begin with and took you from behind- wrists bound and your face pressed against the wet stone.  
Then I turned you over and shifted back to my current form to continue.   
You were beside yourself with terror. And that was when I burned my name into your flesh with my wand.  
In answer to the next question.. Lord Voldemort. It was for Harry’s benefit after all, not your own.

Would you prefer me to carve Tom Riddle into your skin?

 

I’m not sure how I feel about any names carved or burned into my body anywhere.

If you insist..yes... I’d prefer Tom Riddle

.  
You were telling me that Harry interrupted you brewing with Severus and became upset. 

 

Yes.. and Harry wouldn’t tell me what he went to the headmaster’s office about so I essentially sent him away.   
And that made Professor Snape happy and he let me brew one of my potions. Then we drank tea in his study.

He doesn’t seem to think he has much to hope for. 

I asked what he would like to work on and he listed all of these things but said it was a pointless question since he’ll be either dead, in Azkaban, forced to brew for the MoM or stuck teaching at Hogwarts.

When I asked him what he’d be doing if Harry lost he changed the subject and offered to let me brew poisons.

 

What does Severus want to be working on?

 

Um.... he wanted to replicate the philosophers stone.. but he didn’t seem sure whether he could. And.. he wanted to work with neural regeneration..   
and memory..  
Cognitive enhancement he said. He wanted to work on cognitive enhancement.

 

I would be only too pleased to have him work on any of those areas. What is wrong with the man?!

 

With all the infirmary brewing and things for you and his classes and then your meetings and whatever else you have him doing.. he doesn’t really have any chance to work on anything. He’s too busy doing everything else.

 

He is my principal potions master and a spy. He has duties. When Harry lives no more, he will be free to leave his position at the school.

 

He said he joined the Death Eaters in order to practice dark arts and because you promised him things he desired. What did he desire?

 

...that was a long time ago. 

 

You don’t remember?

 

I remember.

He asked for the opportunity to work on creating new potions and he wanted revenge on several students who had tormented him.  
But circumstances change. Two of his schoolmates are dead and another is a death eater

He was able to experiment in potions for several years.

 

Draco is quite good in potions.

 

You think I should delegate all his regular duties to yourself and the   
\- one moment. 

 

...is everything alright there?

Hello?

...

 

Yes. The boy had slipped my mind. There should be no lasting effects however. He is resting on my sofa at present. Continue.

 

Yes..

Maybe if you arranged for all of Severus unpleasant duties to be handled by others and got him to work on something creative.

It might not be enough. It’s possible you were right about Harry’s mum.

 

I will think on that matter also. 

Have you started on your reading assignments?

 

No Professor Riddle..  
...Professor Voldemort? Lord Professor Voldemort?  
I was going to begin forgotten curses when the business with Harry happened.

 

Sarky.   
Have you the remotest inkling of what I would do to a death eater who spoke to me as you do?

 

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it disrespectfully.   
I would have loved to have you as a Professor.

 

My detentions can be rather taxing - as young Draco here can attest.

Read the Senatus book first. Summarise your day later. I will speak with you tomorrow.

 

The writing disappeared and she reluctantly put the diary away.   
Ten minutes later she was several pages into Triumph and Sacrifice and was frowning at the pages faintly. What was she supposed to get out of this?! The ‘Senatus’ who’d written it was clearly a man after machiavelli’s heart.. although.. from the style she supposed he may have preceded the Italian court advisor.   
She agreed with some things –things that seemed perfectly logical, regarding the purpose of strategy and the necessity of adaptability..but others, such as the impossibility of true alliance and the costs and benefits of loyalty, made her feel a bit..mercenary...reminded her of how dramatically things had changed for her in the last couple of days. 

She shook off her disapproval and concentrated on reading. Tom would no doubt expect her to summarise her observations.


	6. Chapter 6

Severus looked at the liquor cabinet ruefully. He would not have a drink at three pm on a Sunday.   
The memories of his father sprawled out on the couch with an empty bottle in his hand flashed in his mind. He was secretly afraid he would end up emulating the vicious muggle if he gave himself over to the temptation to run away and hide inside a bottle. 

He turned away and forced himself to go to the lab and begin the initial preparations for the wolfsbane he would have to start tonight. 

Damn the girl. Why had he allowed her to remain after brewing?! 

He knew why he had allowed it..   
Nevertheless he had been sorely tempted to... but that was all foolishness.   
Albus may have subtly bribed him with the overeager student but he rather doubted the headmaster would be tolerant of his exercising his carnal appetites upon her fresh young body. 

He sighed. She was so small and bright and soft.. He wanted to bury his face in that mares nest she called hair.   
Fruit scents.. she had a range of different hair products, each of which he recognised by scent alone after so many years. Today it had been peach and vanilla. He’d been rapt when she had hesitated during brewing because it had offered a justification for standing very close to her and breathing in her enticing fragrances.   
It was unwise to have her so temptingly close at his beck and call. What was the old man playing at?! And to shove Potter into his bedroom?!   
Perhaps the potion he made for the headmaster to slow the spread of the curse in his hand was somehow affecting his mind.. 

He chopped a handful of thick leathery roots and placed them into a glass bowl at the side. 

Potter was intolerable. It was more than the fact that Lilly’s eyes looked up at him continually from James Potter’s face – frequently with a hateful challenge in them..   
It went beyond appearances..beyond his parentage - it was the twerp himself. The way he was worshipped wherever he went for what essentially amounted to luck and the sacrifices of others.   
The entire world was tossed asunder because of one little twit and he somehow imagined that everything would unroll before him of its own accord. The Dark Lord would just stroll up and slip his head into the guillotine for him to sever. Everyone would have a colossal party to celebrate how wonderful he was and then he’d ride off into the sunset with the girl.

That may have been another more recent contributing factor in his feelings for Potter, he grudgingly conceded. The boy had been panting after Miss Granger the entire year although she appeared to be oblivious.   
Seeing Potter’s dream had disturbed him more than he was prepared to admit..on a great many different levels.   
He had been disturbed from the very beginning, watching his fantasy of laying the Gryffindor princess down in the rank puddles of the forbidding chamber and having his way with her.. but that discomfort paled in light of the worrying implications of the rest of the dream. 

The actions of the Dark Lord had been intensely troubling. 

It was not exactly..the fact that the girl had been raped in and of itself, even if watching it had caused several conflicting reactions..   
It was not the threat made to acquire the girl although that too was concerning.   
It was not even the fact that the Dark Lord had carried out the act himself, although that never occurred in reality. Severus supposed it was possible he had done so because he believed it would be more traumatic for the boy to watch his nemesis carry out the act than if he had had dream-versions of Death Eaters take her violently over and over.   
Although.. one might argue the finer points of whether this would be the case. He had been present for a lot of rapes and observed the horror and distress of husbands forced to watch their wives and daughters taken apart by three or four men at once. 

That was not so far off from the crux of what perturbed him about the dream. It was the fact that the Dark Lord had barely harmed the girl.   
Oh he’d crucioed her a little.. he’d branded her..but his master seldom indulged in witches and those he did take never emerged alive. If they were to be dumped for the order to find it, was inevitably in pieces.. exsanguinated, scarred and mutilated pieces...without exception.   
Yet when the Dark Lord had finished taunting Potter, the dream version of Miss Granger still lay on the ground sobbing and quite intact. 

This was entirely illogical...uncharacteristic. The many different implications terrified him. 

His Master had been in a strange mood when he had visited him yesterday though.. perhaps it was nothing.   
The man had virtually apologised to him for killing Lilly. He had offered him an open ended boon.. That was practically a personality crisis. 

And on the same day Miss Granger had shown a sudden interest in brewing dark potions .   
Two personality crises..   
possibly..probably.. a coincidence. Her explanation was not implausible and the girl had always been willing to skirt the rules when it suited her..

The idea that... it was preposterous. Entirely unthinkable.. 

He thought about Peter Pettigrew for a moment. No one had suspected mousey little Peter.   
He didn’t know when the wretched little scab had first gone to the Dark Lord and whether it had been solicited..but comparing the rat with Miss Granger in any respect was perverse. 

..He didn’t want to entertain the idea that she might have been somehow ...compromised – Merlin only knew how such a thing might possibly occur. It was preposterous. 

He had invited her to stay for tea purely in order to probe her a little and allay that wild irrational fear and the girl had responded with considerable reserve to his invitation to deepen her foray into the dark arts.   
It was only when he had realised how much he was unintentionally revealing to the skittish little minx and had backed off, that the girl had pled to be allowed to brew Grays potions with him.   
She had been upset at his sudden distance and sought to undo whatever had provoked it – her plea was therefore no true indication of her pursuit of dark arts.   
It was possible she merely wanted to be close to him..

He sighed. That was wishful thinking.   
But her behaviour had been inconclusive. He would have to observe her carefully over the next days. 

It was usually better to remain far away from his Master when he was not specifically summoned, and if he was obliged to see the man voluntarily he preferred to do so on Fridays or Saturdays on the off chance he might require time to heal.. however in light of the situation, perhaps he should go and get an impression of the Dark Lord’s mental state in the process of reporting Potters new change of address and the appointment of his new assistant. 

Yes. 

He placed his ingredients in stasis and went to floo the headmaster.

 

 

Draco groaned. 

He hurt. he hurt all over. 

The vibrant stabbing burning pain had stopped but all of his muscles hurt from his thrashing. It was not as bad as the cruciatus but it had been pretty damn horrible and now he was in the Dark Lord’s chambers and he really, really, regretted touching Granger.   
He’d never been in here before. He wasn’t really high enough on the food chain to receive personal invites into the great wizard’s private rooms. The fact that he was here now was worrying him massively.   
He hoped he wasn’t going to have to.. to do anything with him.. 

The Dark Lord never got involved in any of the revels. Before Granger, he hadn’t even known whether the man had a cock and he really didn’t want a first-hand experience with it. 

He jumped at the coldly amused voice of the man seated at the desk   
“I have no interest in your body, boy.”

All his muscles jangled and ached even more.

Draco angled his head slightly so that he could keep the Dark Lord in his sight. He was seated at his desk writing in a red book.   
At that point he seemed to finish and swept his hand over the page, closing the book immediately and looking up at him. 

“I am informed that you are passably proficient in potions” he said out of the blue. 

Draco blinked. “Y-yes my Lord..I am fourth in my year.” 

The serpentine face looked thoughtful. 

After a while he enquired.. “What are the ingredients of blood replenishing draught?” 

Draco swallowed and thought hard. He listed slowly, growing more confident as the Dark Lord nodded. He quizzed him on a number of other simple potions, and Draco felt confident in his answers.   
After he had provided the number and configuration of stirs required in each stage of skelegro, his Lord sat back in his leather desk chair pensively, his hands steepled in front of him.   
Draco swallowed.   
Perhaps the Dark Lord would want him to train as a potions master like his godfather.   
It was possible.   
He wasn’t certain he would be disappointed with that. He did enjoy potions. ...Not quite as much as arithmancy but well enough to make a profession of it if it was the Dark Lord’s will.   
Really.. he’d make a profession of ballet if it was the Dark Lords will. Not aligning yourself with the Dark Lord’s will was really bad for your health.   
Better to be a living potions master than a dead businessman. 

The Dark Lord seemed to have reached a decision. The red eyes that had been staring off toward the fire flicked back onto him and pinned him to the sofa.   
“You shall assist your godfather with brewing for the Hogwarts infirmary, Draco. He is currently also receiving assistance from Miss Granger.   
...You do remember what we spoke of, regarding her, don’t you?” 

Draco quickly assented, hoping to avoid a reminder. 

“Very well...   
You are not to make your godfather aware, in any way, that Miss Granger is anything other than what she was to you last week.   
...I am tempted to obliviate you, Draco, to ensure that you are capable of discretion, but I suspect that you would eventually repeat your foolish little attack of this morning, were I to remove this lesson.”

“You will treat Miss Granger no better and no worse than you have done for the entire year. Do not ever assume while you are anywhere on Hogwarts grounds that you are in private and may speak openly.” 

“No my Lord.” Draco promised uneasily.   
Why couldn’t he tell Severus?! Severus was in the inner circle. Surely he knew about Granger. 

“That brings me to the next matter, Draco.” 

The Dark Lord rose from his desk and moved to seat himself in the chair closest to Draco’s head on the couch.   
Draco forced protesting muscles to turn his head up and look at the Dark Lord above and behind him in the chair. 

He sat elegantly, almost primly, with crossed legs, his arms on the wide square armests as if it were a throne. Draco looked up into the chilling eyes and suppressed a shiver. 

“I am concerned about your godfather, Draco. I believe he may have forgotten who he truly serves in the process of playing his role.   
For that reason he has not been made aware of Miss Granger’s defection.. and for that reason – you are going to observe his behaviour and report your findings to me” 

Draco went cold. The Dark Lord was telling him that his godfather might be killed.. and he was requiring him to put the noose around his neck, so to speak.   
Was there any way he could escape this task? 

“Draco..” the Dark Lord’s voice sounded measured and reasonable. “If Severus is a traitor.. it is not just I he has betrayed.. It would mean that he has lied to you.. to your father..for Merlin knows how long.   
If he has truly committed to the order.. to defeating everything that we stand for..then it is in your own interests to discover this as soon as possible in order to protect your family from whatever evidence he might collect or have already provided.   
Surely you see that if Severus has deceived you in this way..he does not deserve your commendable loyalty..” 

Draco nodded reluctantly.   
“He wouldn’t do that, my Lord. Severus is almost part of my family. He wouldn’t betray...you” he said thinking.. ‘he wouldn’t betray..me’..

The Dark Lord nodded agreeing. “That may be so, Draco. All the more reason for you to observe him to establish that there is nothing to be concerned about.   
I will expect you to report to me weekly and you will contact me as soon as it is safe to do so should anything definitive occur.” 

Draco licked his bottom lip nervously. “What would be definitive, my Lord?”

The serpent snorted faintly.   
“Definitive would be the man trying to recruit you to spy for the order...or trying to persuade you not to participate in the tasks I assign you outside of school hours..   
Definitive would be observing him intentionally sabotage anything he is doing in my service.. I’m sure you grasp the concept..” 

Draco nodded but he felt miserable. He was remembering how Severus had been very angry with him when he had learned that he had asked to take the mark and how he had told him it was a sad waste.   
Lots of very little things were starting to be reinterpreted in light of this suggestion of betrayal. 

The Dark Lord looked pensive again and seemed to sigh. 

“Do not worry so, Draco. I am inclined to be lenient where your godfather is concerned, however lenience does not mean remaining intentionally ignorant.   
Get up. You may return to school now.” 

Draco winched himself up into a vertical position feeling extremely sore. 

“Thank you my Lord” he ground out with difficulty, drawing his wand. 

“Oh.. one other thing, Draco.” The Dark Lord said with a cold little smile.   
He braced himself for something else unpleasant and was not disappointed. 

“Harry Potter will be staying in your godfathers quarters for the foreseeable future. It goes without saying that you are not to allow him to know of your affiliations, obviously.   
Do have fun working around the three.” 

Draco nearly groaned.   
Potter.. in the same room as the mudblood and his godfather.   
Fan-fucking-tastic. 

He bowed to the Dark Lord who looked greatly amused and disapparated back to the bushes alongside the road to Hogsmeade.

 

 

Severus observed his godson returning to school as he was walking down the path toward the forbidden forest and frowned at the state he was in.   
The boy was walking like an old man. It was clear where he had been. 

He thought again sadly about what a waste the boy was making of his life. 

He could see Draco’s desperate longing to be accepted and praised. He had told Lucius time and again that the boy deserved more of his attention but it was always “later-later” with him.   
The boy had grown up in an icebox of a home. Narcissa was pleasant enough in her way but she couldn’t see past the end of her nose. 

Draco had come to Hogwarts and immediately fallen in with the wrong people.. all the children of his father’s associates.   
It had been inevitable, the moment he had been sorted into Slytherin.   
Severus had hoped the boy might be a Ravenclaw. His entire life might have taken a different path if he had been less...hungry.. less..ambitious..   
There were times he truly disliked Draco these days. 

It seemed like only yesterday that he was a small child, hiding behind the furniture and refusing to have his hair brushed. He had cried when his father had scolded him for breaking a sui dynasty vase. 

Severus was tempted to veer from his path and help the boy into his dorm; feed him healing draughts and stroke his hair comfortingly as he had his father only yesterday.   
But Draco would not appreciate that, he knew. He despised anyone seeing his weakness. 

Severus turned away, hardening himself in preparation for the man who would likely kill him one of these days.. possibly even today.   
He had a bad feeling after yesterday.   
He had been complacent perhaps.. had been doing this for too long. Maybe he had given himself away at some point and not realised it. 

The Dark Lord did have a habit of giving one more than enough rope to hang themselves with, when he suspected someone of something. 

His Master had listened to Regulus fabricate the most convincing lies, meeting after meeting.   
He had never learned that the man had stolen his horcrux but he knew that he was betraying him and had used his lies to ferret out two more Death Eaters who were teetering on the fence.   
The end, when it came for Regulus, was neither swift nor merciful. 

The Dark Lord could be preternaturally patient, especially when he already had you by the balls and had simply not yet begun to twist. 

Having reached the informal apparition point he pressed his wand to his dark mark up his sleeve and waited.   
It seemed to take a long time. Perhaps the Dark Lord was busy.   
After almost half an hour his mark finally burned and he apparated to his side.

 

 

Lord Voldemort steepled his fingers and waited for the man around whom so many of his thoughts had revolved lately. 

He was tempted to bring things to a head, but repressed the urge with a half sigh. 

The pop of apparition was almost immediate. Severus must have been waiting at the apparition point for a response.   
Presumptuous of him. 

He shot a cool even stare across the desk as the potions master dropped to one knee. 

“Back so soon, Severus?”   
He gestured for him to rise.

The man looked up with hooded eyes as he stood. His mind was as intangible as fog, nothing to grip, he barely even bothered to try to penetrate it anymore.   
Severus had a particular gift for occlumency. It was taxing to try to squeeze anything out of him and one could never be certain it was the truth. 

“Yes my Lord. There have been developments. The headmaster has moved Potter to my quarters in light of his..nightmares.. I am to occlude for him.” 

The Dark Lord smiled wanly. “I am pleased that you have informed me, my servant. I shall not waste further effort and I will be spared the boy’s insipid fantasies.” 

The potions master smirked.   
“In addition.. the headmaster has granted me Miss Granger – the girl from Potter’s fantasy – as a lab assistant. She will take on some of the more basic brews I deliver for the school.” 

The Dark Lord raised his hairless brows in mild surprise. “Is that so.. That is perhaps convenient.. You shall have even more time to devote to the tasks I intend to set you today.   
I have already spoken with young Draco about assisting you. It seems you now have two assistants.” 

Severus’ face seemed to fall microscopically.

“Does this not please you, my servant? I had hoped to free up your time for a more advanced project..”

The potions master’s expression was inscrutable.   
“My Lord?” he enquired politely.

The Dark Lord hesitated..  
...he suspected that Hermione was correct. Severus wanted her. He hoped the man was not foolish enough to ask for her.

“Yes Severus.. I have a new interest.. it is a muggle science.. it is called ‘cloning’..have you heard of it?!”   
He derived great satisfaction from the way the man’s jaw very nearly hit the ground. He had never seen Severus so discomposed.

“My Lord? A muggle science??!” 

Smirking he went on. “Yes.. as I gather, it involves extracting the information inside cells which is like a plan for the person.. and placing that information inside a female sex cell..   
..after her own material has been removed from it, obviously-“ 

“obviously..” Severus chimed in weakly. 

The Dark Lord smiled wider.   
“Oh come now, Severus.. when have you known me to disregard potentially valuable information?   
I even possess a computer.. I searched out the practice on the muggle internet. ...It is a useful creation.” 

Severus looked pained. “Indeed, my Lord? I shall endeavour to inform myself. Perhaps Miss Granger..” 

The Dark Lord frowned.   
“Potter’s mudblood?!. You will be working on the task here, most of the time.   
Unless you are suggesting bringing the mudblood here?   
Perhaps... yes.. come to think of it, that would be convenient! I could send Harry a pensieve of..”

Severus interrupted him. “My Lord, I merely meant to ask her what she knew about it, but I see that it is not wise to alert anyone to the project.”

The Dark Lord smiled nastily.

“Ah but she would not be informing anyone in the brief time she were here..   
We might create an entire collection of blue material for the order to enjoy before we sent her back by owl ..over several days..” 

The smirk the potions master shot was not quite convincing, he decided. It had a slightly harried edge to it. 

“But then I would lose an assistant. Providing Potter with porn is of less value to me than not having to brew blasted pepperup any longer.” 

He let the man off and switched back to his preferred topic.   
“I will have a facility fitted for you here, Severus.   
You are not unintelligent. I anticipate you will master the computer with little difficulty. I would like you to begin research on the practice as soon as possible.”

“I shall provide you with further apparatus and resources as you determine you require them.   
Perhaps some muggle scientists to begin with.   
They have not achieved sufficient success in the practice to duplicate humans.. however I have no doubt that with the addition of magic and with your incisive mind, you will advance where they have failed.” 

Severus nodded noncommittally but there was a faint spark of interest in his eyes.   
“What is the objective of the..clonine..my Lord?” 

“Clone-ing Severus. The replicated creature is a clone. The original is cloned. I have no idea why and it matters little.” 

“I wish you to replicate my body. I am growing weary of this form.   
The venom potion and the cold are tedious.. As devoted as I may be to the emblem of our house..I wish to feel myself once more.” 

“I desire for you to create a copy of my body from blood...which I will provide from old stock when you have proven the process works.   
I intend to transfer my essence to the new body you create for me – however that part of the endeavour I shall take care of personally. You need only concern yourself with ..physicalities..   
You will need to amend the aging potions in existence at present, or create a new one, in order to allow for a permanent aging.. but that is all rather small detail in light of the rest of the work you face.”

Severus nodded, his expression revealed nothing about his thoughts on this endeavour. The Dark Lord decided to throw out the hook and see if he might bite.   
“In addition, Severus.. I thought you might like to manufacture a copy of Lilly Potter. Her body was encased in stasis you know. Undoubtedly there is material you might utilize.   
I do not know whether it might be possible to restore her essence..   
If not she would be, I imagine.. essentially the same witch, merely lacking in memories.” 

The veiled expression on the sable haired man’s face was somewhere between disgust and fascination. “Is that an order, my Lord?” he asked tonelessly.

“No Severus.. it was merely a suggestion. Do as you please regarding the witch.” 

The man looked down.   
He could almost see the request for Hermione approaching and spoke quickly.   
“Severus..” 

The potion masters black eyes slid up to his and for a moment he could see, superimposed, the beautiful youth he had plucked from a young Lucius’ lips one day on a whim.

“My Lord?” he asked neutrally. 

The Dark Lord sat back in his chair thoughtfully.   
“I was curious..”   
He hesitated and the man’s eyebrow rose a nearly imperceptible fraction. He ignored it.   
“...- what you might like to do when Potter is dead and you are no longer required to teach at Hogwarts?” 

The man before him seemed to freeze but he could see his adam’s apple bob slightly.   
The answer when it came was carefully neutral. 

“I will do whatever you require of me, my Lord.”

He nodded slightly. “That is as it should be. But lately I find myself frequently musing on your tireless service, Severus. You have sacrificed more than any other and quite without complaint.   
After the boy is gone, I have decided I will allow you to work on whatever you please.   
Perhaps from time to time I may make a request.. but by and large, I believe I will show my appreciation by setting you up in a lab and leaving you to your own devices.”

The potions master looked mildly confused and suspicious.. as if at any moment he were about to fall into a trap. 

“Thank you, my Lord. You are very...generous.” he responded uncertainly. 

The Dark Lord smiled wanly   
“It is nothing. Return to Hogwarts Severus. I am certain your roommate will be rifling through your drawers.” 

The dark man clipped a bow and was gone.

 

 

Severus apparated back to his home in spinners end and stood for a moment, before walking numbly to his tatty old leather armchair and flopping down.   
Shortly thereafter he summoned the bottle of firewhisky in the cabinet and a glass. 

After he had thrown back the second glass he started to be able to think again. 

He felt a terrible sense of unbalance; the feeling of stepping down, expecting another stair, and stumbling on the floor.   
Too many different things. 

This new project. The Dark Lord used muggle technology?! What else was he unaware of regarding the man?!   
And resurrecting lilly?!...

Potter in his bedroom..Miss Granger in his lab.. oh god.. Miss Granger and Potter and Draco in his quarters. 

Had the Dark Lord just offered him freedom?   
It probably truly meant that death was not far away but he couldn’t help but imagine for a moment how it might be in the post-Harry-Potter world..   
...To have his own lab and work quietly without disturbance...without schoolchildren or demands or even financial worries.. 

...and perhaps ..perhaps not alone. 

The Dark Lord had not appeared to react to mention of Miss Granger..   
Well.. at least he had not appeared to react unexpectedly. He had considered having her raped and killed to upset Potter but that was ..normal. 

Perhaps if he was amenable to allowing him to resurrect one muggleborn...he might consider allowing him to have the other instead.   
He swallowed..   
It felt familiar..the line of reasoning. He would just assist the Dark Lord to kill the Potter boy and then he would have the girl he wanted at the end. 

It hadn’t worked out so well last time. The Dark Lord tended to disregard collateral damage and other peoples desires in the face of what he wanted.   
But..perhaps..

He shook his head at himself, wide eyed. What in Hades was he thinking..   
This was the Dark Lord.. he would never allow him to live free, even if he succeeded..   
and..and it was not about his freedom...his selfishness had been what got Lilly killed. If he had accepted that he simply could not have her and had tried to protect her from the Dark Lord, perhaps she would be alive today. 

How many people would he be killing to have a bit of quiet and a shag with a sixteen year old girl?! 

It was so tempting suddenly to stop fighting.   
He could return to Hogwarts, slip two drops of Magellan’s Silent Sleep into the boy’s pumpkin juice...or drop it into his mouth while he slept, ...or his nose, ...his eye - it wouldn’t matter   
... and then it would be only thirty seconds or so and the boy who lived would live no more. 

It had always been within his power to erase the light’s last hope. 

He had struggled with the wretched boy for six years, despising him and protecting him and knowing all the while that it would only take the smallest slip of his hand over the boy’s cornflakes and the one who has the power to defeat the Dark Lord would be food for worms.   
He dropped his head into his hands.   
But he couldn’t do that.. He couldn’t. He never could. He had promised himself that he would protect Lilly’s son. 

The Dark Lord was a mad tyrant who would enslave half the world and slaughter the other half without a second thought. He had to be stopped.   
Giving up and retiring to a private estate and spacious top-of-the-line potions facility, where he would not be troubled by the news of mass slaughter, torture, abuse, the collapse of society etc was cowardly.   
Better to be in Azkaban in a world where others were able to live and work and go about their lives unharmed, than to relax in comfort and material and intellectual bliss while the world burned.

He should return to Hogwarts and report to the headmaster what had happened.

He did not want to.

What did that mean?!   
He was entertaining the idea of returning and intentionally deceiving the headmaster about the meeting with the Dark Lord..   
Omitting certain details.. significant details.. almost everything in fact. The muggle technology.. the project.. the Dark Lord’s offer. 

He poured another firewhisky and drank this one more slowly. 

He needed to talk with someone.. but there was no one..   
He had been able to speak with Albus about his feelings regarding the Dark Lord. But he could not speak with anyone about his current position.   
Not even Lucius was aware of his work for the light over the last ten years.   
And anyone who was aware of it would hardly be sympathetic to his temptation to return to true service of the Dark Lord. 

His mind flicked to Miss Granger again.   
He had told her that one never truly gave up the dark arts.   
The conversation they had shared had not been helpful to him. It was probably, on some level, contributing to his temptation to reason away morality and take the road of maximum pleasure and minimum pain.   
It kept ringing in his mind “All of this could be over.. All of this could be over..” 

He roared in frustration and flung his half full glass into the grate. He imagined this was what a recovered gambler felt like outside a casino. 

 

 

Good grief.. could they be any more melodramatic?!   
Hermione seethed as Ginny and Ron both went ballistic all over Harry at the news that he would be staying with professor Snape for a while until he could shield his mind properly.   
They seemed to be upset over different things. 

Ron was flipping out over ‘Snape the git, the bloody bastard.’ And ‘everyone’s going to talk’ and things of that nature whereas Ginny was squawking that professor Snape should watch over Harry in his dorm because ‘it wasn’t right’ and ‘how would anyone know if anything happened to him.’ 

He hadn’t told them about the contents of the dream, although his eyes had shifted uneasily when Ron had rudely asked. 

“It’s not as if I want to stay there” he yelled back at them.   
“If I don’t, I’ll have Voldemort in my head every night.. and I can’t take it.. You don’t know what it’s like..” \

Ginny rushed up and grabbed his teeshirt. Hermione’s eyebrow rose slightly.   
“I KNOW what it’s like, Harry. We can’t help you if you don’t talk to us.” 

Harry’s eyes slid to meet her own. “Hermione..” he said slightly lamely. 

She was sitting on the couch quite calmly waiting for everyone to get over it and function once again.. not that they were particularly high functioning at the best of times.   
She responded reasonably “I’m sure professor Dumbledore wouldn’t send Harry down there if professor Snape were a threat Ronald.” 

“And Ginny – how do you think Seamus, or god forbid Neville, would feel if professor Snape were sitting in his dorm room all night. He’d fall apart. You know how Neville is about professor Snape.   
And it would be just as inappropriate to have one sixteen year old boy in his professor’s quarters all night, as it would be to have a professor in the sixteen year old boys’ dorm room all night.   
More so since if professor Snape were that way inclined, he’d have far more to ogle.   
I dont think he is that way inclined but I have no evidence to the contrary. I’m sure he’ll behave himself either way. He doesn’t particularly like Harry. I don’t think he fancies him.” 

A small look flew across Harry’s face and he looked away. 

She frowned slightly, curious.   
Had professor Snape said or done something to make Harry think he might want him that way?! She made a mental note of it and glanced at her watch. Almost ten pm. She had transfiguration in the morning. How much longer was this going to take?! 

Ginny was hugging Harry and looking like he was going off to war, possibly never to be seen again.   
She’d see him at bloody breakfast. It wasn’t the end of the world. 

Hermione could imagine worse things than spending the night in professor Snape’s chambers. 

She was a bit curious actually. She’d only had sex once. She wanted to do it again ...and although Tom apparently could shag her in Harry’s dreams whenever he felt like it, she was going to have to wait until whenever she was allowed to go back.   
Before she’d gotten stuck on the idea of Tom Riddle she’d dreamed of Professor Snape quite a bit.   
He had that dark sexy dangerous thing that Tom had (except tom had even more of it obviously).   
She wondered what it would have been like to sleep with Professor Snape.. (Severus, her mind corrected unhelpfully)..

Of course when she’d been most fascinated by him she’d been thirteen, going on fourteen years old.   
If he had slept with her then, that would have made him a massive paedophile. Paedophiles weren’t sexy, even if they were dangerous and dark.   
At any rate she’d only really dreamed about him kissing and holding her at that time. 

Now.. now it was different. 

When he’d wrapped his finger in her curl teasingly, before she’d broken the mood by asking him for too much information, he’d been looking at her in this intense hungry manner that had sent a shiver down her spine.   
She’d become suddenly aware that she was alone with him in his rooms and it had frightened her a little.   
Now when she brought that memory up in her mind she wondered vaguely what it would be like to touch professor Snape..to kiss him.   
She wondered what his body looked like beneath all those robes..

...Guiltily though. 

The memory of that pale perfectly defined sculpture she’d seen yesterday floated up in her awareness.   
How could she want any more than that? There was nothing that could possibly exceed that!

She was curious about professor Snape but it was in a kind of addendum way.. an addition.. not an exchange. If she had to choose.. there was no choice. She’d already chosen and she’d choose it again.

“Hermione..” Harry interrupted her thoughts.   
It was jarring to look at him after the line her mind had been following. “Yes Harry?” she said automatically.

“Can I talk to you for a minute.. um.. in private?” 

She felt like she’d swallowed a cannonball the way her stomach sank.   
Ginny and Ron both looked disgruntled. Ginny was looking at Harry and Ron was looking at her. She ignored him and suggested “How about I walk you down to the dungeons.”   
He looked at her gratefully and nodded. “That’ll do.” 

There was another near tearful goodbye from Ginny - who had the gall to throw her a suspicious look.   
What did she think.. Hermione was going to drag Harry into an alcove and jump him?!   
Wryly she mused that it was something that Ginny herself would probably do. Goodness knows she’d been with half the boys in their year.   
She turned away and headed for the portrait hole. 

Harry joined her out in the corridor after a minute. He looked intensely relieved.   
“Thanks Mione” he said quietly, when the portrait had closed. “At least I can always count on you to keep things in perspective. Ginny can be a bit..hard to deal with.. sometimes.”

Hermione smiled emptily thinking ‘no kidding!’ 

She walked along with him, remaining alert as they moved through the halls.   
“So..” she began, intending to ask about Harry’s transfiguration assignment, hoping to keep the conversation nice and light, knowing that it would never happen. 

Harry interrupted her.   
“Mione I’m worried about you!” he blurted. 

She frowned slightly. “Thanks Harry – i worry about you too. But we’re all in danger in this war” 

Harry stopped in the middle of the corridor and shook his head.   
“No.. in my dream.. well.. you were there and he said he was going to hurt you in real life. You can’t go off by yourself Hermione! It isn’t safe!   
Go with a group If you want to go off school grounds or ..or even around school if its night or you’re in the dungeons or.. Merlin.. if you’re in the library even..   
Well.. ok.. not a group but.. tell me at least.. I’ll stay with you. 

Hermione I couldn’t cope if he...if he hurt you.   
Losing Sirius was bad but if I lost you.. I think I’d go mad. Please Mione..” 

Harry had moved closer to her and she backed up slightly, unsettled.   
She nodded firmly. “Ok Harry. I’ll be much more careful now. Don’t worry. He won’t get me.” 

Harry moved closer again. He had a look of determination on his face.   
“If I don’t say this now.. I might lose my nerve completely... and I’ve been wanting to say it for a long time now..so here goes” 

Hermione’s eyes widened. Inside alarm bells were ringing and there was screaming and flames. Oh God someone stop him!! What the hell have I done to make Harry think I’m interested in him that way?! 

Harry had come closer still and she backed up surreptitiously again.   
Then she felt the wall behind her back. 

Harry stood far too close in front of her, looking at her with shining eyes. 

“I ..I ...think you’re amazing, Hermione. Half the time I’m stunned at how clever and thoughtful and..and beautiful you are.” He blushed slightly. 

Hermione wanted to sink into the floor. She was no good at confrontations. How was she supposed to say to Harry ‘hey look – I think you’re a nice guy but I’d rather date your mortal-enemy (or immortal as the case may be).   
She might have had a crush on Harry when she was in her Gilderoy Lockhart phase and liked dashing obvious hero types.. ...and she might have resented it a bit when Ron dated Lavender and neither of the boys seemed to even notice that she was female... But the time for thinking of Harry that way was forever gone.   
In order for her to be with Tom.. Harry was inevitably going to have to die at some point. Why make it worse than it would be?! 

Oh god.. what had he just said?! Caring and really-like and.. the alarm-bell words fried her brain. 

And then Harry stepped against her and put his hand on her cheek and kissed her gently. 

She squeaked in shock and felt Harry’s other hand on her waist, sliding around to her back, pulling her closer.   
She was frozen.. stunned.   
She didn’t come back to her senses until she felt Harry’s hot tongue flick at her top lip, trying to deepen the kiss. Objectively seen he wasn’t a bad kisser..

She felt her hands press against his chest and push him away slightly.   
He moved back immediately, looking down. “...Sorry.” he mumbled. He looked hurt and afraid and she felt terrible. 

She swallowed. “Harry.. you just told me you’d lose your mind if anything happened to me.. If we get involved like this then neither of us are going to be able to think straight and if something does happen, we won’t be able to react in the way we should.” 

Harry looked up with a spark of hope in his eyes. “I’ll win Mione.. I’ll kill him. And then...” He took a deep breath “-And then I’ll find a way to convince you to fall madly in love with me..” 

She smiled wryly at him. Yes. That was good. Later. After. Maybe – possibly – if etc. Not now. Let it go now, Harry.

“It can’t be as difficult as killing an immortal dark wizard” he joked.   
She grinned back at him and brushed his hair out of his eyes.   
“It’s going to be ok, Harry. Don’t worry. Professor Snape will watch over you when you sleep. And I’ll be really careful. I won’t go to Hogsmeade alone again, Ok?” 

Harry looked relieved and sad and hopeful all at once. He stepped closer and then stepped away again. 

“You’re right Hermione.. I know you are. It’s just hard.. I.. “ he shook his head silently and looked at her longingly.   
“I guess I’ll say goodnight then. I’d rather you walked back from the second floor than from the dungeons.   
...See you at breakfast..” 

She smiled approvingly. “Goodnight Harry. I hope you have a better night’s sleep than you did last night. See you at breakfast.”   
She hesitated and then turned and headed back down the corridor. After a few seconds she heard Harry start off again too. 

As soon as she had turned the corner she sped up till she was nearly jogging back to the portrait.   
Oh god oh god.. Harry had bloody gone and kissed her!! She was certain that the level of panic she’d just experienced would have informed Tom through the necklace that she was in some kind of danger.

She sailed past Ron in the common room, raising a hand to cut him off as he opened his mouth, and flew up the stairs to her room. 

Within seconds she was changed and warded securely into her bed, taking out the diary.   
She opened it expecting angry recriminations ...but there was an empty page.   
Uneasily she wrote

 

Tom?

 

There was no reply for several minutes and then the words bled up through the paper in red.

 

I’m going to kill him.

 

She responded uncertainly

 

You’ve always been going to kill him. 

 

A valid point.   
I want to do more than merely kill him. Killing him is too merciful.   
I want to dig up his father’s corpse, make him an inferus and have him eat Harry Potter alive beginning with the genitalia. 

 

Well that’s... certainly...more than death.

I’m sorry. I should have expected it maybe but I was just so..shocked..when he did it.

 

I am considering having you abducted.   
Twice I have felt you accosted and it has been only one day. 

 

You don’t even have to bother anyone to abduct me. Say the word and I’ll be waiting.   
All of this..rubbish.. is interfering with my reading time.   
Tomorrow I have classes. Do you know what we are doing in transfiguration?! Objects into animals. I’ve been able to do that for two years now.   
I’ll spend the whole lesson helping Neville and Ron I expect.

 

Why do you help other students in class?

 

If I don’t then they’ll just hold everyone else up and I’ll be even more bored. 

Besides..I’m sure you helped students in class too. It goes along with the perfect prefect ‘butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth’ bookworm image.  
...If i keep this up, next year I’ll be head girl and then I’ll really get to suck up and waste my time on others.

 

Would you be disappointed if you did not have the chance to become head girl?

 

Let me think.. hmm... minor prestige of a little shiny badge and my own room..vs..learning forbidden magic from the greatest wizard in the world and experimenting with different sexual practices..

Gosh.. that’s a really difficult choice. I’m going to have to think about it and get back to you.

 

I believe your sark is growing on me. 

I took your advice regarding Draco. He will be assisting Severus also now.   
I have Severus working on a rather ambitious project to clone my body. My original body, that is.

I..believe.. he is quite excited about it. It is frequently difficult to tell with Severus.

 

Clone as in.. genetics? Or is the word used in the wizarding world in some other way I have never heard about?!

 

Yes. Genetics.   
I had originally thought he might clone Harry’s mother and be content with that but I gathered from his expression that cloning one’s dead loved ones may be somewhat distasteful to less pragmatic individuals than myself.

 

Its a bit HP Lovecraft-ish. Besides – they wouldn’t be the same person anyway. I tend to believe that we are all a product of our experiences. 

How did you learn about cloning.

 

I looked it up on the internet

 

Are you joking?

 

...I am not wearing my “joking” expression.

 

You have a joking expression?!

 

I find the internet to be..convenient.. in some ways. We must not allow our own prejudices to prevent us from potential advantage, my dear.   
Severus nearly fell over when I told him. It was most entertaining.

do you have anything new to tell me?

 

...still thinking about Lord Voldemort surfing the internet...

nothing has really happened in the last hours. Ron is still an idiot. Ginny thinks I’m stealing Harry.   
Harry seemed a bit scared that Professor Snape would molest him or something. 

The Senatus book is a bit cynical, isn’t it?!

 

Why would Harry think that?

Senatus is a realist. Perhaps you do not want to accept certain uncomfortable truths about the world and your interactions with others.

 

Maybe. But it seems like there must be more to it than just power and security. What about... altruism. People sometimes help others for no advantage to themselves.

 

It allows them to feel good about themselves. A form of security. Particularly if they are muggle and believe in this or that god that rewards ‘good deeds’

What makes you think Harry might fear interference by professor Snape?

 

I’m sure there must be more to it than just feeling good about yourself...

it was just a look. He had a funny expression on his face for a moment when I was explaining to Ginny that Harry didn’t need to worry about inappropriate behaviour because professor Snape probably doesn’t swing that way, doesn’t particularly like him and almost certainly isn’t interested in him that way. 

 

Most intelligent wizards (and witches) are bisexual, Hermione. It does not carry the stigma that it does in the muggle world   
...although homosexuality is frowned upon, obviously.

 

Professor Snape goes both ways?!!

 

As do I. Although not preferentially. I have seldom felt drawn to my own gender.

 

! ! ! ! ! !

 

Apparently I have once again broadened your view of the world.   
Get some rest, my dear. 

 

And he was gone. The words vanished.   
She was mildly irritated that he never bothered to wait for her to acknowledge his farewells. That was the polite thing to do in correspondence or interaction.   
It was probably because most of the people he interacted with left when he dismissed them.   
And in a sense, that was what he had done each time when speaking to her. 

But.. that was correct, wasn’t it? She could hardly get in a snit because the Dark Lord wasn’t being polite enough with her. The idea was patently ridiculous. 

Attempting not to be disappointed that he hadn’t spoken to her like he had the previous night – instructed her to strip or do anything of that nature – she put the diary back in its hiding place and turned over to sleep. 

 

 

Severus stalked up to his chamber door with an irritating feeling of foreboding. 

The boy would be in his chambers. The door would open for his hand, the headmaster had ensured it.   
He had been given no choice. All his intricate wards and defences were for little, since the boy could open the door with a touch.   
He would have to impress upon him how displeased he would be if he were to find that others had been admitted into his rooms. 

The meeting with Albus had been tense. He had sat in his leather chair at Spinner’s End and finally brought himself to the point where he decided to tell the headmaster everything that had eventuated.

And then he had found himself before the man and his decision went out the window.   
He found himself fabricating details of plans to abduct Miss Granger and instructions to work on aging and de-aging potions.   
He had mentioned nothing of the Dark Lord’s offer to free him following the boy’s death. 

He worked himself into a near sweat trying to occlude a small section of his mind while leaving the rest open for Albus perusal.   
He was never allowed to occlude before Albus.   
It occurred to him as he raised his hand to lower the wards on his door that in many ways, Albus was a harsher master than the Dark Lord. 

Certainly he knew he would not be cruciated or cursed when he went to the headmaster but at least the Dark Lord did not employ guilt or parade Lilly’s spectre before him like an accusation. 

Albus knew exactly which buttons to press to break down his walls. 

He had been broken when he had begged him on his knees to help him; to save her... and the old man had done nothing to save her.   
When he had gone to him, enraged and beside himself with grief at Lilly’s death - Albus had told him it was his fault that she died – his fault for not coming to him sooner.. for putting her into danger by telling his master of the prophesy.   
All of it his fault.   
The entire wizarding world in danger – his fault. 

He had wanted to die.. but the headmaster prevented him from killing himself.

He let himself in to his quarters, noting the yellowish light spilling onto the floor from the corridor, at the end of which lay his bedroom. He really had no patience for the drama he was no doubt about to face.   
Hanging his cloak up he hesitated just a few moments in the entryway drawing himself together to deal with the boy. 

When he entered his bedroom, Harry was sitting in the chair by the fire with a book open that he was clearly not reading.   
He jumped slightly when Severus walked in and his eyes darted up momentarily and then back down at his book. 

“Well, Potter? It’s late. I have classes in the morning. Read on your own time.” 

He walked to the ensuite bathroom and stepped inside to change, swallowing his own discomfort.   
He had two options.   
Either the boy could sleep in his bed while he sat somewhere close by and watched him, perhaps read, while he consciously occluded him.   
Or they could both sleep but he would need to have constant contact with the boy’s skin for his own now-automatic occlusion to cover the boy’s mind. 

He was tired, but he somehow doubted the boy would be amenable to the second option. 

When he emerged from the bathroom in a long grey nightshirt and his dressing gown, the boy had not moved. 

“Do you intend to sleep in your clothes, Potter?”   
The boy seemed to flinch and his eyes widened.

“Why are you getting ready for bed, Snape? Aren’t you supposed to be staying up and watching over me?” 

He scowled. Well there went his own rest. He’d have to face second year Slythendors first thing in the morning on no sleep.

...Bugger that!

He fixed the boy with a brook-no-argument expression and informed him.   
“No. I can occlude you while I sleep. “   
He removed the robe and got into bed. It was a large mahogany carved four poster which lacked curtains. He made himself comfortable. 

Harry’s voice was uncertain. “Where am I supposed to sleep then?” 

He leaned up and glared at the boy.   
“You can sleep in the bed, or on the floor beside the bed, Potter. It is your choice. I must cast a sticking spell on our hands to be able to occlude you in sleep and I assure you - I have had a rather trying day and intend to get some rest. 

The boys face contorted. “I’m not going to touch you!! You’ve got to be joking if you think I’m going to bloody hold your hand while I sleep!!” 

He looked repulsed and Severus felt both gratified and indignant somehow.   
“Potter.. I am not in the least interested in arguing with you about this. You will come here now and we will go to sleep or I will petrify you, levitate you over here and we will still go to sleep, but you will be less comfortable when you wake in the morning.” 

This seemed to cause a reaction.   
“Snape.. if you bloody..”   
He interrupted him. “You flatter yourself, Potter. I am not interested in your underdeveloped little body, merely in my own rest. Now stop wasting my time and get over here.” 

His words propelled the boy reluctantly out of the chair. He slipped his shoes off but did not undress further.   
That didn’t bother Severus in the slightest – he would be only too happy to wrap the boy in a full body dragon wrangling suit if he could.   
He held out his right hand tiredly as Harry hesitantly climbed onto the bed and lay down on his back haltingly, looking at Severus with a suspicious look on his face – as if he would be set upon at any second. 

For a millisecond Severus found himself tempted to terrify the boy, but the urge passed. 

He gestured with his open hand again and the boy tentatively placed his own in it.   
His hand was cooler than Severus’ own, and smaller. There were a few callouses from quiddich. 

He placed his wand to their hands and muttered the sticking spell, reaching behind his head and slipping his wand beneath his pillow.   
“Goodnight” he mumbled, yawning, and let himself relax somewhat, closing his eyes and slowing his breathing. 

The boy calmed gradually as it appeared that he would not be raped any time soon and soon his own breathing changed rhythm. 

Only when Severus was certain that the boy was truly asleep did he allow himself to drop off. 

 

He woke up at some point in the night abruptly. Something was touching him. 

At first he thought, disoriented, that he was in bed with Lucius.. the familiar weight of a head on his shoulder, a hand on his chest.. but there was hair tickling his chin and Lucius’ hair was unnaturally well behaved even in repose.   
The memory of the boy...of bloody Potter..flooded back to him. 

The irritating little whelp was cuddling up to him in his sleep.. ...or at least he hoped it was in his sleep. 

He listened hard and the boy was breathing evenly and deeply.   
He moved mindlessly, mumbling something and seemed to wriggle closer, his jean clad leg brushing against Severus own naked one, their joined hands were at his side beneath the boy. 

Merlin’s bloody balls.. How could he get the boy off him without waking him and having another performance of ‘you’re trying to get your lecherous old hands on me’?   
Good grief! Was the boy drooling on him?! This was intolerable!   
He gritted his teeth and turned his head away.   
He would put up a barrier of some kind the next time, he decided. There was no way he was going to have Potter laying all over him every night. 

For the moment however, it would probably be easier to go back to sleep than to have a colossal drama and then be forced to sit awake watching the boy for the rest of the night if he refused to remain in bed.   
He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the way the boys thumb was hooked into the neck of his nightshirt. Swallowing, he cleared his mind as best he could. 

After what probably only felt like an interminable length of time he dropped off again with the weight on his chest and shoulder.

 

 

Harry woke up very slowly. 

He had the strangest feeling. It was something he hadn’t felt in..he wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt it   
It felt..safe.   
he felt.. safe.. warm.   
He was curled around a warm mass and..   
it was a person, his mind supplied..   
he was wrapped around a warm body and had a feeling of peace. Like something.. some noise that he hadn’t been aware of, but that had been gritting against his mind for the longest time..was silent.

“Mione..” he mumbled.. but something felt wrong about that. The shape was far too large to be Hermione. He could fold her into his arms. She was smaller than he was. 

The body beneath him flinched at the sound of his voice, apparently jolting awake and a moment later he was flung away roughly.   
Only the hand holding his prevented him from sailing off the side of the bed.

“What?! Fuck?! What’s going on?!” he blurted disorientatedly.

“MR POTTER!!”   
The voice was horribly familiar. Harry’s eyes flew open to see the thunderous glare of his professor in a grey nightshirt. 

His top button was undone.

“I’ll thank you to keep your revolting little hands to yourself! Had I known that I was in danger of molestation at your hands, I truly would have petrified you.” 

Harry gaped and sputtered. What the fuck was he talking about?!   
His mind pieced together the sensations and reconstituted the fact that he had been lying pressed up against.. curled around in fact.. his professor.   
Snape.   
The great git.   
The bloody bat of the dungeons.   
He had been snuggling up to him as if he were the world’s largest and most acidic teddy bear. 

He felt the urge to laugh suddenly, feeling surreal unreality slosh over him. It was funny in a way. A really, intensely, disturbing way.   
Oh god.. nobody could ever know about this!!! 

“Sorry” he mumbled, reddening and looking away. “I’m not used to..”

The man was already busy with his wand, undoing the sticking charm. “Spare me, Potter” he snarled and tore his hand away as the charm was loosening. It hurt and Harry pulled his hand into his chest automatically, guarding it.   
Snape was already in the bathroom, the door slamming behind him. 

“Great..” he thought to himself, getting out of bed. 

He felt crumpled and sticky from sleeping in his clothes, but in light of how he’d woken, it was probably a good thing.   
He looked toward the bathroom uncertainly and decided to forgo a shower this morning in favour of a scourgify. It wasn’t really refreshing but it would do. He’d shower after classes.   
Anything to get very far away before Snape came back out of the bathroom. 

He was dressed and out the door in five minutes and burying himself in a bowl of cereal with chocolate milk in the great hall.   
Hermione was sitting sipping tea and reading from a thick book on Roman history. It looked extremely dull. 

He wanted to speak with her but she seemed somehow quite closed off this morning. Suddenly she looked up from her book and shot him a curious playful look. 

“So.. did professor Snape ravish you?” she quipped softly. 

He looked down and stirred his puffs. “No. You were right. There was nothing to worry about” he responded, trying to make it sound light.   
He was suddenly reminded of how he had felt when he was waking. That..feeling of safety..   
it must have been Snape’s occlumency. It was gone now and he felt tense. 

Whatever it was that Voldemort did to dig into his mind during sleep.. he’d never realised it but he must do it on some level all the time. It felt like..a constant irritating buzz in his head. Like.. being in a steady breeze that you got so used to that you only noticed its absence.   
This morning he had noticed its absence.   
He didn’t want to admit it but it had felt really nice.

Even if it was Snape.. (that git!).. it felt..tranquil. ..and before he’d realised who he was holding it had felt..warm..pleasant.   
He kind of hoped he’d force him to sleep the same way tonight, only for that..sense of peace he had gotten for a while, and the faint hope was making him feel sick.   
He did not want to be near Snape.. he bloody well didn’t want to touch him!!

He stirred his soggy rice puffs. 

“Is everything ok, Harry?” Hermione asked softly, her eyes examining him.

He forced himself to shake off his thoughts and smile at her.   
“Sure, Mione. Just worried about that poor excuse for a transfiguration assignment that McGonagall is going to chew me out over.”   
Hermione smiled back and apologised for not helping him work yesterday. 

At that point Ron joined them. He was silent, piling food on his plate but his eyes questioned Harry silently.   
He tried to nod reassuringly.   
There were more people in the great hall now and Ron obviously didn’t want anyone to get the wrong impression. Harry was grateful.   
Then Ginny slid onto the bench beside him. 

She sat too close, as always. He didn’t know how to really tell her that he wasn’t interested.   
She was always touching him and hanging on him and following him about. 

For a while he had been flattered and considered fancying her, but over time he had realised that she was nothing he was looking for. 

...She was a bit of a slut.. although he wouldn’t use that word out loud, obviously. She wasn’t stupid but she wasn’t..brilliant either. And although she was pretty enough, he supposed.. she had this look about her.. it was as if he could almost see Mrs Weasley superimposed inside her. The way she’d fuss and the bossy dictatorial tone she took sometimes. 

He liked Mrs Weasley as a mum kind of figure.. but he didn’t want to date someone like that. 

He loved the Weasley family.. There was no place like the burrow..but he didn’t want to have a family just like theirs..   
He wanted...he wanted a family more like his mum and dad had been..   
maybe a family more like Hermione’s too. He’d met her parents at the train station a few times and they seemed to love her to bits. They looked at her with such pride..   
It reminded him of the way his mum had looked at him in the mirror of erised. 

He wouldn’t have a big messy family. Just him and Hermione and maybe a couple of kids.   
As many as she wanted.. but he suspected she didn’t want to start a quiddich team either. 

“Are you ok, Harry?! He didn’t do anything, did he?!” Ginny flustered at him urgently.   
He shook his head and gave her a similar response to the one he’d given Mione. “I had nothing to worry about” 

He didn’t want them all concerned about him. 

The rest of breakfast went by quickly and they got up soon enough to head off to class.


	7. Chapter 7

Draco waited outside the door to his godfather’s chambers. He was anxious about knocking. He suspected Potter and maybe even Granger would be in there and he wasn’t sure he could face them both and not betray anything..   
and.. and his godfather.   
If he acted suspiciously in any way the man would be in his head poking around and then the Dark Lord would probably kill him.. and all over some bloody stupid potions. 

He steeled himself and knocked. The door swung open immediately.   
“Took you long enough” Severus voice drifted out to him from the potions lab. “Hurry up then”

Draco slipped in and closed the door behind him. 

When he got to the potions lab it was as he feared. Granger was stirring a cauldron while his godfather hovered around her and Potter slouched on a stool with his arms folded and a surly expression on his face.   
“ferret” he acknowledged snidely.   
Granger didn’t even turn. He supposed that she expected him.

“What do you want me to do” he asked Severus blithely.   
His godfather waved a hand vaguely at the next bench. “Burn paste. Get to it. You can refer to page one hundred and thirty of your text book if you are uncertain” 

He bristled. “I know how to make burn paste. What is Granger making”   
The response was curt. “Veritaserum. Do not distract her.” 

Anger stirred in him. That was not only highly illegal (and Potter was sitting there watching!) it was very difficult to make it right and deadly if it was made wrong. He scowled furiously and got to work on his piddly little burn paste. 

“What the hell do you need two assistants for, Snape?! If you’ve got the ferret helping you, you don’t need Hermione anymore.” Potter bitched. Granger looked up at him with a hard look on her face.   
“Harry. I volunteered to help professor Snape. I like brewing potions. I’m not going to stop being his assistant because of you or Draco Malfoy!”   
“Pay attention to what you’re doing!” his godfather snarked and Granger’s hand, which had been lilting slightly as she looked up, drew straight once more as she circumscribed the complex spiral stirring pattern.   
“Sorry Professor!” she squeaked, aware of her near brush with ruining the potion.   
Draco smirked. 

The next hour went by relatively uneventfully. Potter had growled and shifted impatiently until Severus sent him out of the room. Draco felt a shade more relaxed when the moron was gone. He looked over at his godfather.   
The man was standing quite close to Granger.. very close in fact. He felt uneasy watching them.   
Granger was focused on the pale pink brew with an opalescent skin that she was blowing air across with a small bellows.   
His godfather was focused on her..looking down at her with fascination.   
Draco felt worried. He was going to have to tell the Dark Lord about this and He wouldn’t like it..

“I’m finished professor” he said. 

His godfather did not respond immediately and raised a hand to still him. Draco folded his arms petulantly. 

“Now..” Severus said quietly, quite close to Granger’s ear. He could have sworn she shivered.   
That was bloody..blatant.. what the hell was he doing?!!..   
Even if it was just Potter’s mudblood.. he was teasing her. Had the Dark Lord told him to?! Draco doubted it. 

Granger had put the bellows down and was counting under her breath, her hand over the cauldron, a kind of large eyedropper in it, poised to add the final ingredient. If she’d done everything correctly then the liquid would turn clear and the vapour would take on a bluish tint.   
A few seconds later, exactly that occurred and he grumped internally that the mudblood was able to make veritaserum.   
He was sure his godfather must have coached her on it before today. That was a really difficult potion. 

He swallowed. It was going to have to be tested. There was no way in hell he was going anywhere near it! It could kill him.. worse.. the Dark Lord could kill him if he spilled the beans. He sidled to the door. 

“Draco..” his godfather growled low.   
He spun and shook his head.. “No! there is no way I’m trusting anything the mudblood brews. You can’t make me.. you’d be endangering a student!”   
Severus seemed to frown but there was a look of resignation on his face. He saw too that he couldn’t have Draco take it. 

Granger wrung her hands as he turned back to look at her speculatively but then he seemed to sigh.   
“I will test it.”   
He flicked his wand at the door and a faint hum went up. He had set some kind of ward.   
His godfathers eyes shifted between Granger and him seemingly indecisive. He finally seemed to decide

“Miss Granger. You will ask one question that you suspect I might not wish to answer truthfully. It will be something of no bearing to the war. If you do not comply with this requirement and I am forced to reveal anything sensitive i will obliviate both of you and you shall not assist me any further with brewing. Are we understood?” 

Granger nodded thoughtfully, seeming to try to think of something.   
Draco cursed silently. It would have been so easy to just ask “are you loyal to the Dark Lord.” Severus responds yes, everything’s fine and we all get on with our lives. 

He watched as the potions master siphoned off three drops of the liquid in the cauldron with a small pipette.   
Looking at it firmly his godfather opened his mouth and dropped it onto his tongue. Almost immediately his pupils dilated. 

Granger asked quickly. “Who was the best sexual partner you ever had?”

Draco blinked, he would never have dared to ask Severus that question, not least because it might expose his own father.   
He’d seen them together once in the library years ago and they had looked pretty damn excited with each other. 

His godfather had turned dark red and was pressing his lips together furiously, trying not to answer the question.   
It was kind of fascinating. He wondered whether he’d manage to hold out. he seemed to be turning a frightening shade of purplish and looked furious.   
Granger was white and had backed up slightly. She obviously hadn’t expected this level of upset to the question. 

Finally Severus gasped and choked out “the Dark Lord” before panting in recovery. 

Draco gulped. Severus had fucked.. well no.. he couldn’t see that, really.. The Dark Lord had fucked Severus?!   
When the hell did that happen?!   
It was apparently better than his father and everyone else that his godfather had had over the years.   
That was just unbelievable. Did it happen while the man looked like a snake, he wondered. His father had hinted that the Dark Lord had been quite good looking at one point.   
Draco imagined he’d be a cold brutal lover. The thought sent a shudder down his spine. Ugh.. those chilly slender fingers on his hips.. that noseless face pressed to his neck..   
No way! Not for all the money in the world. He tried his best to train his face not to display the disgust he felt but he wasn’t sure he succeeded. 

Granger looked..curious..  
Salazar, what was wrong with the daft bint?! Didn’t she know that it wasn’t normal to be curious about that..

But Severus might not have noticed because he had his hand over his eyes, recovering.   
Draco shot said daft bint a look and she seemed to get it and shifted her expression to one of incredulous horror. 

Severus sighed and removed the hand pinching the bridge of his nose, opening his eyes.   
He sounded weary.. older than he had a few minutes prior to taking the veritaserum   
“I suppose that is not.. sensitive.. information, Miss Granger. I am tempted to obliviate you both anyway.. but the headmaster frowns upon obliviating students unless it is absolutely necessary.   
I will elaborate on what i have shared somewhat and inform you that the event in question was over a decade ago.. I was very young and did not have any choice in the matter.” 

Draco processed this quietly. It was back when the Dark Lord was ‘good looking’ and it was an order.   
That was a bit different he supposed.   
It still left the fact that he must have been bloody dynamite to have left this big an impression a decade later.   
That was..unexpected. 

Granger looked contrite and was apologising to Severus and promising not to tell anyone. He wondered whether she’d slept with the Dark Lord too and whether it was an order.   
Realising that wasn’t a good line of thought to have around his godfather he lowered his eyes to the floor. Severus was waving Granger off in his peripheral vision and he dismissed them both soon after. 

Draco got out of there as quickly as he could, without looking at Granger and dashing past Potter who was lying on the sofa in the study, without comment. 

It wasn’t till he had the shield door of Slytherin house closed behind him that he felt he could calm down. Pansy and Goyle were on the sofa by the fire and they waved him over.   
Relieved he tried to put his godfather and the stupid pain in the arse mudblood out of his mind.

 

 

Harry frowned as the ferret flew out the corridor and through the door at top speed, without even sparing a nasty little comment for him. He’d at least expected something slurring his sexual preferences.   
He wondered what the hell had happened.

Hermione walked calmly out a few seconds later and smiled at him faintly. “Harry.. i’m sorry.. I think I upset professor Snape. I hope he won’t take it out on you.” 

He looked at her curiously. “Did you mess the potion up?”   
He had yelled about it when Snape (that git) had told her what she was going to make. Mione, true to her nature, had been overjoyed. But he knew that Snape probably wasn’t brewing it for the order. The order used ministry made veritaserum from Tonks and Kingsley. So again he had Mione making potions that Lord Voldemort would use against them. 

He probably got some kind of a sick thrill out of having her make things for the death eaters. 

He hated leaving Snape alone with Hermione for any reason. The bat hovered around her like a bee around a flower.   
The only reason he’d agreed to leave earlier was because Snape said he was being distracting and asked whether he wanted Mione to make a potentially lethal error.   
So he’d come out here and let himself fall onto the sofa with his knees over the armrest. 

“No” she replied. “I made it correctly. But when we tested it I asked him something i probably shouldn’t have.   
No I’m not going to tell you what.   
Anyway.. try to be polite, Harry, ok? Professor Snape is helping you, not the other way around.” 

Harry tried not to roll his eyes and scowl.   
“Ok..I’ll try Mione” he said softly.   
He wished she would walk over and let herself fall down on top of him and kiss him. He knew it was about as likely as snowmen on the sun.. but she looked so soft and flushed with pride at making the really tricky potion.. he just wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her.

“I’m going to head up to the common room Harry, ok? I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

He sat up on his elbows, not wanting her to leave so soon. “Aren’t you going to stay for a while?” he asked with just a hint of pleading in his voice. 

“Harry.. you have to work on your occlumency. Unless you want to move in with Professor Snape permanently that is..” she grinned and he mirrored the expression faintly. 

Occlumency. He’d forgotten about that. He was going to have to go through those horrible sessions again, like he had before..before Sirius..   
It hadn’t helped then.. and Snape had kicked him out after he’d snuck a look at one of his memories in his pensieve.   
That had been the end of occlumency training.   
He’d thought the git was going to avada him. 

Hermione tapped him on the toe of his shoe. “Try, ok Harry? It’s important!” 

He nodded, distracted and upset now. He watched Hermione let herself out.   
Then he was alone again.   
Snape would be somewhere slithering around and apparently he was in a foul mood. And he was probably going to psychically ream him to vent his spleen. ...Great.

 

 

Severus cursed soundly. 

Of all the stupid things the girl could possibly ask.. 

He couldn’t begin to imagine what she would make of the information that he’d lain with the Dark Lord.   
She had looked at him with horror.   
Damn it. She would be disgusted now. 

He was disgusted at himself. He tried never to think about that memory.   
The memory that the Dark Lord had forbidden him to remove.   
The things his master had done to him.. had made him do..   
...and he’d loved it. He’d actually wept and begged when he’d been sent forth from the bedchamber after three days. 

Lucius had been a faded memory in his mind. 

When his lover had found him and tended to his wounds and asked him fearfully about what had happened, he had been unable to respond. He had turned away. He had never told him.. never told anyone.   
Over the years he had tried and failed to get the image from his mind of that coldly beautiful face above him, kissing him, biting him..cursing him.. and the pleasure he’d felt.   
He would have done anything for the man at that moment and his master knew it.. it was written all over his face. 

Had he brought Lucius in, handed Severus a knife and told him to cut his heart out, he would have done it. 

And that was why he sent him away.   
There was nothing left to take.   
It had taken little more than 72 hours to break him.. to own him..

He stalked through the corridor into his study intending to have a drink.. a small one... but the sight of the boy sprawled on his sofa in the half light of the fire made him jump in shock.

“Potter!” he exclaimed as if the boy had broken into his rooms rather than been waiting here for the better part of an hour and a half. 

“Snape” the boy responded marginally less insolently than usual. Severus raised a suspicious brow. 

He was tempted to have a drink even with Potter lying there. He wanted to calm himself and back away from the memory the girl had called up. 

The boy was stretched on his back, propped up on his elbows with his knees hooked over the armrest and, objectively seen, in the firelight he looked quite aesthetically pleasing.   
Were he some random youth and not the saviour of the light, bane of his existence, child of his beloved, he might be tempted to toy with him a little..   
His eyes were black in the gloom, not green.. not lilly’s.. and he wasn’t wearing his usual glare of challenge.

“Get up, boy. Stop displaying yourself in that manner” he snarked and stalked to the liquor cabinet, retrieving the firewhisky and a glass.   
He brought both to his leather wingback and lowered himself, sinking in and allowing the tension to slip out of his spine somewhat before he poured two fingers of firewhisky and put the closed bottle on his sidetable. 

The first sip was heavenly. 

In an almost pavlovian reaction he felt himself unwind just enough to release the tension of the memory. 

“Can I have one?” Potter asked quietly in the firelight. 

The gall, Severus thought. Presumptuous little wretch.   
“Firewhisky is not for children, Potter” he sneered back. 

There was an irritated little huff and what might have been ‘git’. Severus smirked into his glass.   
When the boy spoke next his voice sounded uneasy   
“Are we still going to work on occlumency?” 

Severus considered this. He had forgotten that they were going to begin training tonight.   
He nipped at his whisky contemplatively; not in the mood for dealing with the boy’s tantrums, but knowing the longer he put off trying to train the untrainable little twerp, the longer he’d have him littering his chambers.

“Yes.” He responded finally, his voice dull like the thud of lead slabs.   
The boy looked away, toward the back of the sofa.

Sighing he threw back the last gulp of his drink and drew his wand, lighting the torches in the room in order that he might see the boy’s eyes better.   
It was an unwelcome shift. The somewhat attractive boy draped on his sofa became Potter, green eyes and all.   
“Get up Potter.” He commanded half heartedly. “We will begin.” 

Grudgingly the boy dragged himself back on the sofa till he could sit upright.   
“How am I supposed to do it again?” he asked looking like a man on death row. 

“Focus. Clear your mind.” he responded.   
“I will see what you are thinking. If you cannot clear your mind – something which you will have to learn to do eventually if you intend to keep the Dark Lord outside of it – then in the least ensure you divert your thoughts onto only those things you would wish me to see.” 

The boy nodded slowly, determination in his eyes. Severus paced closer till he was looking down on him, extending his wand lazily and placing it to the side of his forehead.   
It was not necessary but the tiny flash of fear in the boy’s eyes was gratifying.

“legilimens” he muttered.

 

Outside. Sunny day. Wind. Potter was flying his broom, racing after the snitch.   
Something was wrong now.. panic. His broom was shaking, trying to throw him off.. he held on for grim death. 

Lying on his back, a dementor leaning down over him, the putrid mouth gaping, blackness within.. so cold..weak.. he was going to die

The Weasleys sitting around a table. Arthur was covered in bruises and welts from Nagini,   
guilt, fear.. was it his fault?! Had he controlled the snake?   
Everyone was smiling at him. He felt sick.   
Severus sat at the table next to Molly, leaning back in his chair and sneered at the conflicted boy standing uncomfortably. “Are you incapable of taking instruction, Potter?”   
The boy growled and put his head in his hands, pulling at his hair in frustration

Sitting in the library, a book open on the history of magic, sunlight streamed in the windows.   
Ah.. this is better at least thought Severus, walking up behind the boy.   
Just then Potter looked up and smiled brightly. A very young Hermione Granger walked up, beaming, her hair fizzing everywhere and her two front teeth slightly larger than they were these days.   
“I’ve got it, Harry! I found the answer! I thought it was in Renwhit but it was Gobbley all along!”   
Potter grinned, looking at the bright little girl with slightly adoring eyes “That’s great Mione! I knew you’d find a way.”

Severus groaned behind him. “You are offering the Dark Lord weapons, Potter. It’s no wonder he used the girl in your dream. Control your thoughts!!”

Potter sitting on the window ledge stroking the head of a snowy owl and looking out over the dark expanse of the grounds.

“Better” Severus praised. 

Potter was looking out over the dark quiddich pitch

The smell of grass, lying on the quiddich pitch in the dark. A girl with black curls straddling him.. kissing.. little sounds. Moaning and whispers. Harry’s hands on the girl’s hips. 

Severus blinked, surprised. He recognised the girl, she had been a seventh year last year. When had this happened?!   
The boy looked quite similar to how he looked at present. He was bending his knees and bucking up into her, his hands on her slender hips.   
Madeline.. Madeline something wasn’t she?   
Severus stalked up cautiously. The girl bore a faint resemblance to Miss Granger, he noted. More so in the dark like this.

“After all the fuss you put up about sleeping fully clothed in my bed, I can not begin to imagine why you would wish to show me this, Potter.” He sniped, trying not to examine the bodies of the two lovers in too much detail.   
The boy was apparently not as underdeveloped as he had imagined. His form was slim and toned rather than broad. 

There was a growl of frustration from far away as the boy on his sofa desperately tried to grip thoughts that slid through his fingers like sand.

He was walking through the corridors holding his books.

“Good” Severus said quietly. “Now continue walking around. Trace the passage between your classes. Anything.. merely stay away from those you hold dear”   
No sooner said than the scene shifted and it was night. Potter was walking down the corridor with Miss Granger.   
This was recent. The girl looked exactly as she had yesterday. The brown cashmere jersey clinging to her figure over the dark blue hip hugging jeans.   
He should alert the boy to his state.. it was difficult to remember one was not in the moment of the memory, but he was curious. 

When Potter stopped in the middle of the corridor and started to tell miss Granger how much she meant to him Severus thought he might literally be ill at any moment.   
He watched aghast as Potter followed the girl to the wall and stole a kiss, his hand slipping around her and pulling her closer.   
He saw the shock on Miss Granger’s face but she was not pushing the boy off and slapping him either.   
Severus wanted to throttle him.   
Hermione Granger was not for Potter. The junior hero could have any witch he wished. Let him bugger off and find a different one. 

Knowing it was.. or that some would say that it was.. morally wrong, Severus took a leaf from the Dark Lord and tampered with the memory, creating a hybrid of one of his own memories of Lucius at his most ardent and the memory Potter was following in the corridor.

Potter reacted with shock when the lips he was kissing suddenly pressed back hard against his and deepened the kiss forcefully, arms wrapping around him and drawing him tight against a body that was clearly not the small pert slender Miss Granger.   
In the dark corridor, Lucius ravaged the stunned boy’s mouth, his hands beginning to wander down.   
There was a cry of shock and disgust and then he felt himself ejected from the boy’s mind. Finally.. 

“What the fuck did you do, you bastard!” 

Severus smirked nastily. He knew that the memory in the boy’s mind was permanently altered now.   
The Dark Lord had delighted in meddling with his victims minds and before Severus himself had fully developed his occlumency he had enjoyed calling up treasured memories and twisting them.   
Severus still recalled how his pet cat when he was five years old had sliced his gut open with a swiped paw and commenced to feast upon his entrails as they spilled out.   
He knew it had never happened, but the horror and shock was still poignant.

“I merely increased your impetus to learn occlumency, Potter. And look.. it worked wonderfully. You were able to expel me. We shall have to implement this method further.” 

The boy gaped in dismayed disgust.   
“Put it back how it was!! You had no right! That was private. I.. something else..happened.. I said something..or she did.. It was important!..   
Undo whatever you did Snape. I.. I need that memory.” 

Severus looked at him with distaste. He had no doubt that whatever it was that had happened, he would not like it.   
“It is gone Potter. Overwritten. Consider it a practical lesson. The Dark Lord delights in corrupting memories in this manner. I know of what I speak.” 

At that the boy seemed to crumple, stunned. “It’s..It’s gone?.. really? There’s no way to get it back? I was.. kissing her and then.. aargh” he grabbed his hair in frustration.. “Get Malfoy out of my head you fuck! I don’t want that memory.” 

Severus turned away.   
“I’m certain you’ll get used to it. And yes. It is gone.”   
He felt both triumph and shame, he realised. He had.. in a sense.. stolen Miss Granger from the brat who lived.. he had stolen something he valued very much.   
The thought suddenly occurred to him that the boy would go to Miss Granger to ask about the memory. She would tell him. Perhaps.. perhaps they would make a new memory. 

It was intolerable that the girl might give herself to Potter. It was..wretchedly... horribly.. familiar.   
And if he was not careful he would drive..Hermione.. away as he had Lilly. Drive her straight into Potter’s eager arms.

Severus saw them kiss again in his mind. She had looked so stunned and panicky.   
Perhaps she had pushed the boy away and run off.. but no.. they were acting perfectly normal around one another today.   
If that had happened, there would be more tension.   
Perhaps she had..given herself over to the kiss.. He certainly hoped not.. but it would explain the boy’s distress at the loss of the memory at that point. Potter looked like someone had incinerated his broom five minutes before the final championship match. 

“It is enough for tonight” he said, guilt winning over triumph. 

Potter looked at him with hate. “Fuck you, Snape” he spat. 

Severus relaxed and sat back down in his chair, extinguishing the torches and enchanting the firewhisky to pour itself.   
He had no intention of releasing his wand with Potter in this state. He picked up his tumbler in his right hand, wand still poised in his left.   
The firelit-boy was back, Potters green eyes gone and accusing hateful stare muted. 

“The desire to protect those things we value, is much stronger when there is a real danger of their loss, is it not, Potter?”   
He did not expect an answer and continued.   
“What I showed you was relatively benign in comparison with what the Dark Lord tends to favour.   
How much better might it have been to kiss the girl and then suddenly find her sticky with blood pouring from her eyes as she died in your arms ...or perhaps your kiss might be interrupted as she took a bite from your cheek, clawing and attacking you as an inferus? Or perhaps you might be forced to watch her raped and tortured..   
Oh wait.. we’ve had that one already, haven’t we.” 

The boy turned away and seemed to hunch slightly, defeated.   
“May I have some firewhisky..sir.” he said quietly. 

Severus eyed the bottle. There was only three fingers of whisky in the bottom. He levitated it over to the boy wordlessly.

Potter took the bottle unhesitatingly, opened and knocked it back.   
Severus could see his adams apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed gulp after gulp. 

“If you vomit in my bed, Potter, I shall place you under the imperius and instruct you to eat it.” He informed him blithely.

The boy continued swallowing until the bottle was empty and then dropped it to the sofa beside him, staring into the fire unhappily.   
They sat in silence for a long time, each lost in their thoughts until finally Severus noticed that it was getting on for midnight and thought on the next unavoidable stage in the parade of irritating things in his life.   
He would have to take Potter to bed again. 

His eyes slid over to the figure slumped slightly on the sofa, a study in black and orange and smooth youthful lines.   
He was almost tolerable when he was silent and monochrome. Perhaps there was some way to perpetuate his current state.   
He dismissed the thought and stood up from the chair slowly.

“It is late. I am going to bed.. which means you are going to bed, Potter. Come.” 

He stalked off to the bedroom, not looking to see whether the boy followed. 

It was equally dim in here. The firelight lower. He flicked his wand at it, perking it up enough that he would not be obliged to light torches. He preferred Potter without the constant reminder of lilly. 

Pacing into the bathroom he readied himself for bed.   
When he came out, the boy was standing in the room, the firelight shining off too much skin. 

At first he had thought him naked but no – he was wearing his pajama bottoms, dressed as he had been when he had first come seeking dreamless sleep draught.   
Potter looked away defensively.   
Severus bit off a snide comment that had pushed itself to the forefront of his brain. It appeared we might be able to do this without an argument. For whatever reason, Potter had changed his tune. 

He padded to the bed and slipped beneath the covers, stretching himself out and brushing a hand over his tired eyes.   
The slight dip of the bed informed him that Potter had slipped in on the other side.   
Yawning he turned his head to see the boy lying on his side, looking back at him with a fierce defiant expression. He ignored it, extending his hand to him and suppressing another yawn. 

After a second the boy took it and..peculiarly enough.. seemed to visibly relax.   
He blinked, surprised, and stored the observation for further dissection at another time. 

Sticking their hands together he stowed his wand and shifted himself slightly until he had attained optimum comfort, closing his eyes and forcing himself with shredding willpower to remain awake until the boy was sleeping. Only then did he rouse himself carefully, draw his wand and press it feather light to the boys temple murmuring “legilimens”

For contact legilimency it was necessary to have both skin and wand contact to complete the flow. It operated using heat rather than light as was the case with normal ocular legilimency.   
He had no idea how the Dark Lord and Albus used legilimency.   
He had seen each of them.. felt each of them do it wandlessly and without looking at him. Perhaps one day he would learn that.   
He fished around in the boys unguarded mind until he found the memory of Miss Granger and Potter in the corridor, teasing at it delicately to find the edge of his applied addition. 

It was true that he could not remove the addition he had made.. but he could burrow beneath the surface to find the original it covered. The boy would never be able to access it but to one who knew it was there it could be mined.   
He slid past the place where Lucius appeared and found Potter trying to deepen the kiss with Miss Granger. 

He felt again that flare of anger. Why should this worthless child have her?! He barely understood what she was talking about half the time. 

Then Miss Granger gently pushed Potter away.   
He watched the conversation that followed with mixed feelings. On the one hand he was delighted that the boy had not, it seemed, turned her head completely around. On the other hand.. after the Dark Lord was dead he himself would be in Azkaban or otherwise restrained and Potter would certainly follow through on his intention to make Miss Granger... make..Hermione.. fall in love with him.   
Potter had, from the way he had looked at her in the memory he had seen earlier, been in love with her for several years now, whether he was aware of it or not.

As much as Severus hated him, he was sure the boy could be charming,.. sweet,.. chivalrous,..dashing,..all those things that women tended to fall for.   
Could he really stand by and watch him claim her? Watch them perhaps marry and have a child together?..   
It was like Lilly’s revenge.   
If he were to listen to the part of him that had faithfully served Albus for over a decade, he should care for her enough to want her to be alive and happy, even if it were with another. If he tried to bargain for her, she would likely end up as dead as lilly.

He considered that prospect. Could he face risking her death? 

But that was rather a pointless question.. her life was relatively safe within Hogwarts and in essence he held the key to the matter in his hand at this second. He held his wand pressed to its sleeping vulnerable temple. 

All he need do would be to say two little words..

The Dark Lords serpentine face floated before his mind..   
hm..or perhaps not the killing curse. It hadn’t worked so well in the past. 

He could however summon a tiny black bottle from his lab.. and that would have the boy dead in under a minute.   
He could do it right now! 

As if to prove it to himself, he removed his wand from Potters temple, breaking the contact and summoned the bottle wordlessly.   
It floated through the room to his hand.   
He placed his wand on his thigh and held the tiny thing, looking at it. So simple. He need only flip the cork out with his thumb and drip it onto the boys eye.. or lips.. or into his ear.. 

His thumb rubbed at the cork impatiently.   
He could be up in Gryffindor house within ten minutes, stupefy and grab Miss Granger and be out of the school and at the Dark Lord’s castle in under half an hour to tell him the good news. 

It was..so..tempting. 

The boy breathed deeply, his face soft in sleep, glasses on the bedside table. He looked like an unassuming, not unattractive, teenage boy. Not the threat that he so clearly was to Severus’ hopes of ever having Hermione.   
At that moment Potter gripped his hand tighter and wriggled closer to him. 

Severus blinked, unsure what to make of this behaviour.   
It had something of a plant seeking light. 

His hand on the poison trembled slightly. 

He didn’t think he could do it. He’d promised..on everything he had held dear.. to protect this boy with his life. 

He reached his hand under the mattress and shoved the tiny bottle in a short distance. He would have to unstick himself from Potter to return it to the cabinet and that would wake him.   
He lay in the near dark quietly, thinking about what he wanted and what he should do. 

Gradually Potter crept closer till he was draped over him again, burrowing his face into Severus chest and wrapping his arm around him.   
He heard the boy sigh contentedly in his sleep.   
This was...disconcerting. 

He could feel the skin of Potters lean lightly muscled abdomen pressed against his forearm where the sleeve of his nightshirt had ridden up. 

When the boy slid his leg over his own and curled into him tightly, he felt himself beginning to ...respond.. in ways that he was not prepared to entertain. 

“Potter” he said quietly. 

The black head stirred on his chest “Mmmph?” came the groggy reply.

“Get off” he instructed. 

There was a flinch and then the boy mumbled an embarrassed apology and retreated back to the far side of the bed. 

He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep despite the uncomfortable weight at his groin. It proved difficult. 

After what couldn’t have been more than five minutes he felt the boy edging closer to him again.   
He lay, staring frustratedly at the wall while Potter gradually returned, clamping himself around Severus own body like devils snare.   
His hand this time snuck up to Severus neck, laying itself lightly against his skin. 

His cock was expressing extreme interest in the attentions of the boy and Potters leg, now more tightly wrapped around his own than before he woke him, was not helping.   
He was sorely tempted to just.. reach down and relieve himself quickly ...but the thought of Potter waking up and finding him beating off was simply too unsavoury.   
He tried to ignore the arousal he felt.   
Potters fingers at his neck wound themselves in his hair and gripped. 

It was as if sending the boy away had made his pull toward Severus stronger. Half of his body was slung over him now where before it had been only his head, arm and lower leg.   
He shivered, speculating on what might happen if he woke Potter and sent him away again.   
His cock throbbed insistently.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustrated irritation. Finally he had reached the end of his tether.

“Potter.” He woke the boy again.

“mm?” the voice mumbled against his chest.

“You are doing it again” he said quietly. 

There was a pause.. a rather long pause, Severus observed, and then the reluctant, ashamed voice muttered “sorry..” and Potter moved himself to the other side of the bed again.   
Severus pulled his wand from beneath his pillow and cast a vertical ward down the middle of the bed over their joined hands, preventing passage in either direction.   
Potter didn’t notice, he had slipped back to sleep almost as soon as he’d stopped moving, it seemed. 

Feeling that that matter was taken care of and wondering why he hadn’t simply used the ward in the first place, Severus closed his eyes, turning his thoughts to the Dark Lord’s new project and waiting for his erection to dissipate. 

He was pulled out of speculation about golems by a whimper. 

Turning his head he was not entirely surprised to see Potter pressed up flush against the barrier. His face seemed contorted in sleep, forlorn and confused. As Severus watched he whimpered again softly, turning his head into the pillow and furrowing his brow.

Of all the bloody...   
He scowled at the boy. As he watched, potter slowly curled into a foetal position, clutching Severus hand to his chest.   
He looked so.. pathetically needy.. Severus thought uncharitably.   
Pitiful.   
And indeed he did feel a small measure of pity.   
It seemed that Potter was so desperate for human contact that he would even take it from a man he hated. 

He watched the boy whimper and clutch at his hand for another few minutes, hoping that it would abate. But it seemed only to intensify; the whimpers sounding pained and pleading.   
Finally he sighed long-sufferingly and dismantled the barrier ward.   
The boy fairly leapt upon him. In short order he found himself wearing him; Potters lean body lay atop his own, his legs straddling Severus.   
One of Potters arms had curled up and insinuated itself beneath his neck and the boy’s face was pressed against his shoulder, his nose nuzzled against Severus throat. 

This development did not assist him to deflate. 

He swept a disgusted hand down his face.   
Potter was not heavy, but he was very..very near. Severus could feel the warmth of his naked chest through his nightshirt, he could feel the boys hair tickle his jaw... and feel his pajama’d legs against his own naked ones..   
he could feel..  
he could feel the boy’s cock laid alongside his own.   
It was soft. Thank Merlin for small wonders. 

He turned his face slightly and tried to think about something else.   
It was pointless, particularly now that there was a warm body pressed against his hardness.   
He forced himself to remain still although his cock was insisting that it would not wake Potter if he were to simply rub himself against him slightly. 

At this moment, he admitted to himself, if the boy were willing, he’d quite contentedly pound him into the mattress. 

He turned his head toward the face at his throat and heard a soft sigh of contentment again.   
Tentatively he lifted his free hand and laid it over Potter’s back, embracing the boy.   
There was a very very faint mmmm... It seemed the boy desired skin contact. As much as possible. 

He stroked his hand gently down the smooth unblemished back of the teenager clinging to him. His skin was silky and hot. He repeated the action.   
After the third passage he was certain that Potter’s breathing had sped up against his throat.   
As if confirming his suspicion the boy’s cock gave a twitch. 

Severus drew his wand and carefully cast a disrobing charm to undo the buttons of his nightshirt one after another.   
He couldn’t simply vanish the thing. If Potter woke, he could easily say that the boy had undone the buttons as he slept but there was no way that Potter could have cast a spell in his sleep, wandless no less. 

The buttons slipped open one after another between their bodies until the last one was freed. He twitched and teased the sides of his nightshirt free with his wand and then returned it to beneath his pillow. 

Now he felt the boy’s skin, directly against his own. He was hot and smooth and firm.   
Potters reaction was also noticeable .. he seemed to snuggle down against him, the arm around his neck curled tighter and his fingers buried themselves in Severus hair.   
The boy’s cock was at half mast, likely from the friction and it felt delicious against his own. 

Daringly..against his better judgement Severus turned his head slightly and whispered “Potter..”

There was a long pause and then the boy purred a faint response. He smirked at the sound

“Seeing as you are apparently determined to press yourself to me anyway, I am going to unstick our hands. Are you agreeable?”   
He felt the wuschel-topped head nod against his throat.   
A moment later it was done and Potters other arm came up automatically to wrap around his neck. He adjusted himself, settling in more comfortably against Severus chest. “s’better” he mumbled.   
Severus snorted softly, mildly amused by this situation now that the shock had worn off. He wrapped both arms around the young body atop his and held him protectively.   
“Yes.. it is..” he said thoughtfully. 

It took a long time for him to finally drift off to sleep. Potters cock kept hardening and softening against his own and causing his to respond in turn. It was all he could do to remind himself over and over of the many valid reasons not to simply lift the boy, lubricate him and take his pleasure.   
Perhaps through of this endless circular progression of counting the reasons , functioning much like counting sheep.. eventually sleep claimed him.

 

 

Harry drifted. He felt...wonderful. Better than he’d ever felt. He was enclosed and safe and so warm and comfortable. Everything was peaceful and quiet. There was no buzzing.. no fear. 

Something smelled nice..   
He inhaled more deeply, taking in the sweet herby scent. 

There was a gentle movement too. It was like floating in a boat on the ocean with waves rising and falling. 

He rose slowly closer to the surface of awareness, taking in more of his environment. 

He had a feeling that he didn’t want to wake.. as if waking up would bring problems.   
But it was impossible to sink back down into dreams again.. he was waking. 

His senses rearranged themselves and he became aware that he was lying on top of a warm body. He could feel skin against his bare chest and arms around him, one hand in the small of his back and the other draped up his spine; its hand resting on the back of his neck.   
The arms around him felt..nice.. It was all tied in with this weird sense of being safe. 

Reality flowed back and he realised exactly who he was curled around. 

He cracked his eyes and saw skin, Snape’s pale throat. A couple of strands of silky black hair left no doubt as to exactly where he was; whose neck he had his arms wrapped around. 

Good god.. he could feel skin against his chest..   
Had Snape undressed?   
A nasty little thought crept into his mind.. had he undressed Snape in his sleep?! 

That was the problem right there!   
...Disturbing as it was, he was now awake and he hadn’t moved away from Snape..the git.. the bastard.. the hard warm body that felt so insanely not-awful beneath his own.   
He was actually trying to stay as still as he could in order not to wake him up so that he could remain where he was a bit longer. As soon as Snape woke he’d yell and throw him off and...

Why was his hand unstuck?!   
He tried to remember.   
There was a vague feeling like maybe Snape had said something..about it..or something.. but it was blurry. 

Had he woken him up several times? He had the feeling of being sent away more than once.   
Why the hell did he want to be close to the git when he slept anyway?!   
Why would anyone want to be close to him, ever.. he was such a colossal arse all the bloody time.   
A colossal arse who somehow feels intensely peaceful.. relaxing.. calming.. his mind added unhelpfully. 

“I know you’re awake, Potter. I felt you stir when you woke up.” Snape rumbled softly above him.   
He could feel the sound vibrate in Snape’s chest against his skin.

He swallowed and made to unwind his arms and pull away.   
The arms around him tightened slightly. Not uncomfortably.. just enough to assert that pulling away was not necessary.   
He felt bizarrely ridiculously grateful and curled back down. 

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled. 

He felt Snape snort.   
“Yes. That is what you said each time I had you remove yourself from my person last night. However.. I think we might better have a little chat about your..preferences.. this morning.” 

Harrys eyes widened and he gulped, unsure how to even begin to respond to that.   
Did Snape mean what he thought he meant?!   
Oh fuck..

The rumbling voice continued after a pause.   
“After the second time I sent you away, I placed a barrier between us, thinking to solve the problem, however it appeared to distress you greatly. Your urgent whimpers and tugs at my hand were keeping me awake so I took it down again.   
Your current position is what resulted.   
At some point I woke when you were unbuttoning my nightshirt, but after you had finished and bared me to you, you seemed to calm again and I was able to return to sleep. “ 

The hand on his neck moved and stroked down his spine slightly. He was unable to suppress a pleasurable little shiver.   
God.. this was so wrong. Why was he reacting this way?! Had the git cast some kind of spell or slipped him a potion or something?!

“You seem to enjoy touching me, Potter. I am curious.. do you enjoy my hands upon you?” 

Harry’s breath caught. Fuckfuckfuck. Oh fuck.   
The answer was quite obviously yes.. But he didn’t want it to be.   
He wanted to be disgusted and enraged and to leap up and run out of Snape’s chambers and never return. 

The hand stroking his spine moved up and buried itself in his hair. He felt himself harden, against his will. It felt so good! He tilted his head back, leaning into the hand. 

“It certainly seems like you do..” Snape growled softly.

He bit out “yes” and closed his eyes, giving himself over to the sensation, as the hand at his lower back slid feather light over his arse near the top of his pajama bottoms.

“Do you want me to keep touching you?” Snape’s voice was slightly husky. 

That was the question..   
That was the point of either getting up and running out of here like the clappers or giving himself over to the feelings he was trying to deny were racing through him.   
He hesitated. 

The hand skating over his arse suddenly gripped it firmly as the other in his hair clenched, wrenching his head back further.   
The pain was minor but the feeling.. god..it excited him! He felt his cock harden so quickly it was as if a partial petrificus had been cast upon it.   
He couldn’t prevent the faint moan as he was dragged back far enough for Snape to look into his face. 

The man’s expression was somehow different than it always was. He looked.. heated.. feral..it somehow incongruently softened his features. 

“Yes.. don’t stop” Harry gritted out, his eyebrows lifting in a helpless confused expression. 

Snape’s eyes flashed and he actually smouldered at Harry. “You know what will happen if you remain, Potter?..” he asked.. but it wasn’t really a question, obviously.   
Harry recognised that Snape was, in a roundabout way, seeking permission.. making sure that his advances were desired.   
That somehow reassured him. Whatever the bastard might be.. he apparently wasn’t a rapist. 

Harry swallowed again, afraid and excited and impulsive. “Yes.” he said determinedly. “I understand..” 

Snape tilted his head speculatively.. “Show me..” he murmured.   
The hand in his hair relaxed and fingers soothed his scalp. He arched into it like a cat, closing his eyes. “Feels so good” he mumbled.   
He felt rather than saw Snape snort.   
“Oh.. I assure you I can make you feel considerably better than that, Potter.   
But first... allow me to ensure we are ...undisturbed. I am excusing you from classes today. I feel that your...training.. is far more of a priority at present.” 

Harry nodded and a moment later the world shifted and he found himself on his back beneath the much larger man, his legs slung around his hips.   
He could feel Snape’s cock hard against his own through the thin fabric of the pajama bottoms.   
It felt big.   
He became worried suddenly. What if Snape wanted to..um..put that inside him?! He shifted uneasily. 

“Don’t fuss” Snape instructed at his wriggling. The man had drawn his wand and Harry was a bit worried until he saw parchment and ink float into the room from the study. Snape plucked it out of the air and placed the parchment upon Harry’s chest.   
Harry looked down with furrowed brows as the man swiftly penned a letter to the headmaster upon him, to the same effect as he had told Harry a minute earlier. He waved his wand in a more complex pattern and the parchment lifted and folded itself into a paper plane. 

Snape appeared to concentrate and Harry saw a handful of floo powder lift from the bowl on his mantelpiece and fly into the fire. “Headmaster’s office” Snape said clearly and the fire flamed green.   
He directed the small paper dart into it and it vanished along with the green colour in a flash.   
The ink and quill were levitated to the bedside table and then the sable haired man turned back and fixated Harry with a dark smirk.   
“I believe you were about to demonstrate to me that you want this..” He leaned down, his chest against Harry’s, his harsh face tilting slightly, inquisitively. 

Harry breathed in deeply, noticing that the more of his skin he touched the better he seemed to feel.   
“What do you want me to do?” he asked nervously. 

The man sneered “Shall I draw you a map, Potter?!”

Harry hesitated, unsure of himself and wrapped his arms around Snape’s neck again. Yes. That felt better.   
He pulled him down and, before he could think better of it, pressed a cautious kiss to the cruel lips. That felt very, very, wrong.   
The look of surprise on Snape’s face told him that he hadn’t expected it either. Then he seemed to sigh resignedly.

“Of course you would be one of those individuals who cannot fuck without kissing, Potter. Naturally.” 

The next moment Harry felt his mind explode into streams of shock and lust when Snape suddenly dove and kissed him roughly.   
It was more a storming of his feeble defences than a kiss. He responded helplessly as a hot wet tongue probed his mouth, dominating his own. 

He felt Snape splay his knees slowly against him and the movement forced his own legs up in the air from where they’d begun to droop around the man’s thighs to wrap around his waist once more.   
There was a hand in his hair again, clenched tightly, and another sliding down his ribs.   
He moaned through the kiss.   
This was..fucked up. Completely mental. Doing this.. with Snape..   
...But he also thought he might seriously lose his mind if the man were to suddenly move away and stop touching him. 

The hand that had been moving down his side had reached the waistband of his pajama bottoms and he gasped slightly as Snape’s cool, smooth fingers delved below the waistband, slipping in and cupping the cheek of his arse, pulling him tighter against himself.   
It felt good in a terrifying way.   
Or terrifying in a good way.   
He rocked his hips slightly against the body above him. Snape smirked against his mouth and gave his hair one final jerk before releasing it.   
His mouth moved to Harry’s ear and he growled “I’ll hear you beg, Potter, before the day is through.. I promise you..”

The threat/promise coupled with that low velvety register made something inside Harry fizz in desperate need. 

He gripped Snape more tightly and turned his face toward him, finding his jaw and licking it. Sucking at it.   
The hand that had been on his arse suddenly withdrew and then Snape must have used his wand because his pajama bottoms vanished.   
He felt skin pressed against the backs of his thighs..   
he felt.. bloody peculiar really. There was a cock pressing against his..   
oh!   
Now rubbing against his own.. and it felt.. intense.   
Snape’s head had dropped to his neck and was sucking and nibbling at him teasingly and it was doing strange things to his body.. he groaned and clutched, writhing helplessly at the overload of sensation.

“Fuck..” he choked out. 

“Mmmm not yet, Potter” the sexy voice growled silkily. 

A hand was sliding up the outside of his thigh and he jerked in reaction and then Snape started kissing down his body. He couldn’t do anything but respond to the hot lips, teeth, tongue..   
...oh the tongue...his tongue was diabolical. 

Harry whimpered and bucked his hips, his hands clutching at the soft locks of hair and then..oh god oh fuck Snape licked a long stroke up his cock and he just wasn’t able to prevent himself from crying out at the feeling.   
He screamed when the man suddenly swallowed his whole length. The rest of the, pitifully short, blow job was a blur. It felt like he was coming almost immediately and he spasmed and yelped when he felt his professors throat move and realised he was swallowing his cum..  
but then.. then he didn’t stop! He kept licking and sucking gently, ignoring Harry’s protests and pleading and attempts to extract himself, his mouth was maddening around the sensitive flesh and then Harry found himself hardening once more and the tender cruelty began all over again. 

He was one enormous exposed nerve and was utterly powerless to do anything but flail and buck and grip at the hair of the head that bobbed at his groin. When Snape moaned with Harry’s prick in his throat, the vibration was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He’d had a few blow jobs from some of the girls he’d shagged over the last couple of years. Being famous was kind of a turn on for a lot of girls it seemed.   
Nothing he’d ever had was anything like as good as what Snape was doing to him right now.   
He kept bringing him to the brink of blowing his load and then pulling back.. slowing down, clamping his shaft.. it was maddening. 

When he felt, with his cock deep in the man’s throat, his tongue slide out and swipe over his balls, he thought he’d lose his mind.

“Oh god.. please.. please..let me come.. please.. I .. fuck.. it’s too much” he babbled incoherently, stroking the silky head that seemed to be the centre of all things in the known universe, the point around which the world turned.   
The sensation produced by Snape’s darkly amused chuckle around him actually made him groan at the top of his lungs.   
He struggled, trying to hold the head in place so that he could fuck into it but his hands were swiftly captured and then it was even more unbearably mindlessly arousing with his wrists clamped down against the mattress and Snape’s head still moving on him.   
He would hover on the knife edge of coming, trying to force himself to tip and then the bastard would release him and suck his balls or tongue the area just below them and it all felt so fucking amazing..

Who in hell would ever have guessed that Snape (the git) was the worlds most talented cocksucker?!   
He wanted to tell someone that Snape was bloody brilliant but there was no one in the world he could possibly tell. 

He panted, thrusting at the mouth above him, praying that this time he’d be allowed to finish.. “God.. Snape..please.. need it.. so fucking good..please ..just let me come.. SNAPE PLEASE!! FUCK.. PLEASE!!!”  
He screamed it, feeling the smirk all up and down his length and the bastard must have taken pity on him because then he sucked harder and pressed a thumb below his balls and Harry shrieked in ecstasy as he exploded into the hot tight mouth.. the rough silk of that tongue still slipping over and around him.   
It went on forever. He’d never come like this.. it practically deserved a different word.   
He felt like he’d ejected half the contents of his balls..half the contents of his mind. His body was like a taut bowstring thrumming with the energy being released.   
When it was done he flopped back down on the bed utterly unable to move. 

“Fucking hell” he said weakly. 

He jerked galvanically as Snape licked the length of his cock once again. 

“Oh god.. please.. no.. I need a minute...” he spluttered. 

Snape seemed to consider this proposition thoughtfully. “You beg so prettily Potter. I’ll grant you one minute” 

Harry whimpered and his eyes widened to show all the whites.   
“Please.. Snape..I can’t take it.” 

The smirk that his professor shot him was wolfish. “Oh.. you’ll take it, Potter. When I am ready to give it to you. I believe your minute is up.” 

The next three quarters of an hour were pure blissful torture. By the time Snape allowed him to come he was nearly sobbing with want.   
This time when Harry collapsed, panting and shivering in the aftermath of his mind blowing climax, Snape lifted himself and crawled back up his body.   
Harry clutched at him weakly, wanting to feel him against his skin.   
The relief that he felt when the man’s long powerful body was stretched alongside his was unlike anything he’d felt heretofore.   
He wrapped his arms around his neck and buried his face in the crook of his throat, inhaling that pleasant sweet herb scent.   
“You smell so good” he mumbled against his skin.   
“mmm” was the only response. For a while they drifted off to sleep together. 

Harry woke at the feeling of lips on his jaw.. on his neck.. teeth biting on the tender nerves at the crux of neck and shoulder. He hummed appreciatively and allowed his hands to explore the body of the man leaning over him pleasuring him again..   
The reaction this had on Snape was unmistakeable. He realised slowly that Snape liked to be touched.   
He touched him and kissed him thinking about how he should probably return the favour and..um.. go down on him. 

He had no idea how to do it.. but it couldn’t be that hard, could it? 

True, Snape was really big and that probably made it harder but..he’d probably expect him to do it and if he wanted Snape to do..that.. to him again (and he did!) then he should do it. 

He tried experimentally to push at the larger man and to his surprise Snape allowed himself to be rolled onto his back without any resistance.   
Harry licked his lips nervously and tried to duplicate what the man had done, licking and nipping his way down his body. 

When he sucked on one of the pale pebbled nipples Snape groaned deep.   
Harry felt somehow powerful that he could wring that sound from him and applied similar attention to the other one, moving back and forth between them.   
The groan was not repeated but when he nipped the other nipple experimentally he heard the man’s breath catch and his hips shifted beneath him, grinding against him gently. 

He moved on and a hand sifted through his hair, massaging his scalp lightly but not pushing him deeper.   
Soon enough he had reached his ultimate destination   
...perhaps just a little too soon for his own nerves..he might have hurried just a little in his nervousness, he thought.   
Snape hadn’t. His progression had been excruciatingly, mind blowingly slow. He’d been in torment by the time he’d reached his cock...

The size he’d felt rub against him seemed even larger when he was staring it in the face.   
He swallowed, uncomfortable.   
He’d never..touched.. another guy’s.. bits..in any way before. Now he was supposed to put his mouth over..this monster.   
He wondered when Snape had washed last and what it would taste like. He could feel himself losing his nerve. 

The hand in his hair stroked him gently as if he were a timid cat. 

He looked up and saw that Snape had lifted himself slightly and was watching him with a curious fascinated expression. His eyes glittered blackly in the firelight of the windowless dungeon room.

Unsteadily he turned back to the.. um.. matter at hand and the cock in front of him twitched in response.   
He gingerly ran a fingertip up its shaft and heard his professor exhale brokenly.   
Leaning in he quickly darted a tongue out and tasted the skin of the organ.   
It didn’t taste bad. It tasted pretty much like the rest of Snape had. Maybe it was a wee bit saltier. But it wasn’t..gross.. or anything, he decided. 

He swallowed and then he started to lick slowly up Snapes length, not touching it with his hands, just moving his head.   
He heard the man’s breath speed up and the hand in his hair tightened and then loosened again reluctantly.   
When he licked the top side of the penis it rubbed against his face with gravity and at that he heard a faint moan of need from Snape. He changed sides and did it again. 

“You know, Potter” His professors silky voice choked out. “your face is infinitely more tolerable with my cock rubbing all over it..”

Harry frowned and bristled.   
Experimentally he bit the side of the shaft in his face in punishment. However, at that, the moan that issued from its owner was urgent and needy.   
Snape liked being bitten apparently..   
He repeated the action all up and down his length on both sides enjoying the soft gasps until felt the hand in his hair tighten painfully.

“Suck.. Potter” Snape instructed huskily. 

Harry moved to comply, wrapping his hand around the shaft and raising it so that he could rise up on his knees and suck the tip. He intended to work his way down slowly and try to get used to it but Snape was having none of it. Another hand joined the first on his head and he was forced down brutally as the man thrust up into his face.   
He choked right away.   
Snape only pulled back for a second and then he was pulling him back down again, fucking into his mouth. 

Harry only tried to resist for a second.. it was impossible and ..anyway..he found he didn’t want to resist. He somehow liked the way it felt to have himself dragged around; have his mouth just used.   
He just tried to suck while the thick large weight slid in and out past his lips.   
The sounds Snape was making showed that he liked his submission too and when Harry turned his eyes up to the man’s face, his tongue experimentally flicking across the moving velvety bar in his mouth, Snape abruptly lost it, thrusting into him hard, bruising his throat and making him gag.   
Seeing him in distress only spurned the man on to do it more, harder, deeper.   
He felt a gristly grinding as suddenly the cock in his mouth forced itself down his throat and he nearly threw up. 

“YES! That’s it, Harry... right.. there” Snape groaned out above him. 

The shock of hearing his professor refer to him for the first time by his name actually distracted him from the pain and nausea as the thick shaft buried itself in his throat over and over.   
He had almost half the insane length in his mouth now.   
Suddenly Snape thrust in and stopped moving, his length impaling Harry. he could feel it stretching his throat unnaturally tightly and he couldn’t breathe at all. He protested around the thick shaft in his mouth but the hands at his head held him there.   
Tears sprung to his eyes in panic and he looked up at the glazed lust filled eyes pleadingly. 

“Do you want me to finish, Harry?” his professor asked shakily. 

He tried to nod but it was impossible impaled as he was..

“Are you going to swallow it all like a good boy? Like a good little cocksucker?” 

He wanted to say ‘yes! Yes! I can’t breathe. Help!’   
He struggled ineffectually at the hands that held him in place, if anything the massive object in his throat buried itself even deeper. He whined pleadingly and Snape’s eyes lit up. 

“Yes.. you’re a needy little thing, aren’t you, and you want to please me. Swallow it all boy!” 

At that Snape pulled back, pausing for only a second as Harry gasped desperately at the air before burying himself into his throat again.   
It was only a few violent thrusts and then he pulled out halfway and Harry felt the cock in his mouth pulsing.   
Then he had a huge mouthful of bitter liquid.   
Ugh..   
He wanted to spit it out but Snape held his head in place.

“Swallow...” he instructed breathily. 

Harry did. It tasted even more awful going down his bruised throat.   
The softening cock in his mouth was withdrawn gently. He coughed and pulled a face. “God.. that’s disgusting..”

There was a snort above him. He looked up fearfully but Snape was smirking.   
“It is indeed an acquired taste. You are going to acquire it, Potter. Soon enough you will in fact thirst for it. Believe me. Now come here.”


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione sat in charms feeling worried. There was an empty place beside her where Harry should have sat. Ron was looking like he might do something stupid any second and Ginny had been frantic at breakfast. 

Perhaps Professor Snape had somehow injured Harry during occlumency training, she mused. She would check the infirmary after class. 

Professor Flitwick didn’t seem at all concerned about Harry’s absence so she presumed he’d been informed somehow.   
Harry hadn’t skipped class then. 

She glanced at Draco. He was paying bored attention to the tiny teacher instructing them on ordering and sorting charms.   
She knew that this was Draco’s strongest subject. He tied with her sometimes. For him to manage that, he was probably almost as far ahead of the material as she was.   
Draco hadn’t looked at her twice since he got back from the Dark Lord and she was a bit put out. She had actually hoped he might be someone she could talk to here about everything.   
Aside from his snittyness in Professor Snape’s lab (which had given her satisfaction) and that look he’d given her after she’d heard about Professor Snape’s Tryst with Tom, he seemed to be ignoring her completely.   
She wondered if Tom had ordered him to behave that way or if he was just naturally a git.   
Well of course he was just naturally a git.. but Tom might have ordered it. 

Five minutes left in class. She fiddled with her quill impatiently.   
Tom had blown her off when she’d asked about his sleeping with Professor Snape. He’d just said ‘it was nothing of consequence.’ And further probing had revealed very little.   
She wanted to ask Professor Snape but for obvious reasons that couldn’t happen. 

Finally Professor Flitwick set the homework and released them.   
Ron grabbed her arm as if she were about to escape or something any second and stage whispered. “We have to go and save Harry. The git has done something to him, I know it!”   
She frowned slightly   
“Ronald.. we don’t know where Harry is but I’m going to find out – don’t worry. Tell Professor Sprout that I went to the infirmary, ok. I’ll catch up with you at lunch and let you know. 

Ron looked unhappy with this plan.   
“No Mione.. you go to class and I’ll look for Harry. If.. if the git’s got him he’ll hurt you too” 

She rolled her eyes exasperated. “Ronald Weasley – stop calling Professor Snape a git. He is not doing anything to Harry –   
\- Its logical for me to go since I’m his assistant anyway and can get into his lab –   
...also you have been known to ditch class and Professor Sprout will check up on you if I say you’ve gone to the infirmary. Now stop being silly. I’ll see you at lunch.” 

She reclaimed her arm and bustled off before he could stop her or demand to come along.   
She had no intention of trailing Ron around with her. If Professor Snape had done something (perhaps unintentionally.. or whatever..) to Harry then having Ron there to help would be like putting out a fire with gasoline. 

Not finding Harry in the infirmary she made her way down to Professor Snape’s quarters.   
She was just turning down toward the dungeons when Professor Dumbledore met her coming in the other direction. He smiled brightly upon seeing her and his blue eyes twinkled disconcertingly.   
“Ah Miss Granger!” he greeted and then frowned mock reprovingly “..I believe you are scheduled to be in class at present, are you not? Are you perhaps rebelling?” 

She blinked. That was an interesting choice of phrase.   
She allowed the natural guilt and surprise to flood her face to cover the unnatural guilt and surprise in light of her recent betrayal.   
“Yes Headmaster. I’m sorry – Harry was missing from class and I wanted to check with Professor Snape to make sure he was there.”   
She looked down, worrying her lip. 

“Your devotion is admirable Miss Granger. Harry is indeed with Professor Snape. They will be working on occlumency all day today.” 

She forced herself not to swallow the lump in her throat at the word devotion. Did Dumbledore know?!.. was this coincidental?!

He spoke again “It is not the end of the world to miss a few classes, I suppose. I am confident you are quite adept at seeking out knowledge independently.” 

Her mind froze in terror.

Dumbledore smiled kindly at her. “As it is, it is convenient that I have run into you, Hermione. I have been meaning to speak with you. Since the mystery with Harry has obviously been solved and Professor Sprout is not expecting you in class..perhaps you could come with me to my office now?” 

Hermione nodded numbly. “Yes headmaster. I’d be pleased to.”

 

Dumbledore chatted with her the entire way to his office about the times he’d caught students out of class as a Professor and the excuses he’d been offered. She smiled and it was quite funny but inside her head she was panicking like a little bird caught in a net.   
When she finally sat in the wide armchair opposite the headmaster by the fire and he offered her a tea she refused, thanking him graciously.   
Nono.. she didn’t want a lemon drop either thank you headmaster. She didn’t want to eat or drink anything here. 

Dumbledore twinkled at her and took a lemon drop for himself. 

“Hermione..” he began slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face “I regret that I have been so preoccupied in recent years with Harry and the war that I have not taken the time to show you what a shining talent I believe you to be. I have been lax in my advancing years, taking for granted that you would be content to patiently inch along with your peers, working on material that is far and away too basic for your level of ability – I have been pleased to watch you assist young Harry and Ron, and to a lesser extent others, to become what they might not have succeeded in becoming without you.   
Harry might not live today, if it were not for your support.” 

Hermione listened, feeling thrown entirely off balance. This was not what she had expected. 

Dumbledore went on, his blue eyes appraising her silently.   
“It is true.. I have observed you to make somewhat...dubious.. choices at times in the past - Poor Marietta Edgecomb a case in point – however you have always done so in defense of yourself or those you cared for. You have understood, as Harry never has, that at times sacrifices must be made for the greater good.” 

Hermione started to feel chilled, despite the warmth of the fire. 

“And that is why I feel that I might be able to make a request of you which would require a rather large sacrifice on your part.” 

The hairs stood up on the back of her neck with a prickling sensation.   
“Headmaster?” she asked hollowly. 

He smiled sadly. “I am well aware of how very much you mean to young Harry, Hermione. He truly loves you. The portraits inform me that you both came to an.. understanding.. of sorts yesterday.” 

She blushed redly. Oh gods damn it. Stupid bloody spies all over the walls. “Yes sir” she responded in a small voice. 

“I do not know if you are aware, Hermione, but Lord Voldemort recently threatened to abduct you. He showed Harry...terrible things.. in a dream – things he said he would do to you.“   
Dumbledore paused and looked into the fire. His face looked much more serious.. dark even.   
His eyes were not twinkling when he next spoke.   
“And after much thought and soul searching I have decided that it would be best for Harry if you were abducted, Hermione...   
He would be forced to recognise the seriousness of the present situation.. he would be forced to grow up.” 

Hermione actually felt her jaw drop to its maximal depth. She was speechless. Did Dumbledore just say he was going to hand her over to Voldemort!? What. The. Fuck?!

He looked at her and then seemed to realise something. “Oh! Oh no, my dear – I do not mean to allow you to really be abducted.. only to give the impression that you had been. I thought to move you to a hidden location where you will be even more secure than you are within Hogwarts, and to allow all to believe that you were taken by the death eaters. As Harry is now being occluded by Professor Snape, Lord Voldemort will be unable to inform him to the contrary.” 

She realised that this..amazingly enough was actually worse than Dumbledore handing her over to the Dark Lord. She would be locked away somewhere with no access to Harry or Professor Snape and expecially not to Tom. This was terrible!!   
She responded panicked “But Headmaster – You said yourself - Harry needs me! And I’ve just started brewing for Professor Snape and.. and NEWTs are coming up next year – I’ll miss all my classes!!”   
She tried to breathe but it was like her throat was closing. 

“There there, calm down my dear” Dumbledore leaned forward and patted her hand. She wanted to scream at him that she wasn’t his dear. She was only Tom’s dear. 

He sounded hard and certain and coldly reasonable. “Harry must learn to act without you, Hermione. He is still behaving like a child when soon enough he will have to face one of the strongest wizards in the world.   
As for your NEWTs – as I hear it you are far ahead of the required material Hermione. I will provide you with every academic resource you might desire.   
Perhaps you might utilize your free time beside your study to work on private projects. Goodness knows we’d all love more time away from the more bothersome duties to allow our creativity to truly take wing. I’m certain you will get a lot out of it.” 

Her eyes widened. AUGH! He was placating her with the same thing she’d advised Tom to placate Severus with.   
That was surely no coincidence.   
“and Professor Snape?” she said in a tiny unhappy voice. 

The Headmaster sighed and leaned back in his chair pensively. “You wish to continue to assist him, I’m sure, Hermione?”

She nodded miserably. 

After a long while the Headmaster responded.   
“Very well.. I will have a potions lab installed at your intended destination and you may brew all potions required for the infirmary.. and perhaps some of those which Professor Snape brews for the order. I will inform him that I have delegated the task elsewhere.” 

Hermione wanted to cry. She would never be able to brew dark potions wherever the headmaster put her. There would almost certainly be someone checking on her. AND she’d still have to brew the boring easy potions for the infirmary. She’d never get to brew Gray’s poisons with Professor Snape..   
In end effect she was being placed in the luxury version of Azkaban, whatever the headmaster said.   
She was almost convinced that he knew what she’d done and was getting rid of her so that she couldn’t spy for Tom. 

“Where will I go?” she asked, wanting to cry.

Dumbledore smiled brightly. “It’s a little mountain chalet that I possess on the continent. A wonderful place – you’ll be able to walk in the forest and I believe there is even a freshwater lake for you to swim in. Do not worry, Hermione – you will be quite comfortable there.” 

She nodded.   
“Alone?” she asked, unsure whether it would be better or worse to be alone. 

The headmaster nodded. “I’m sorry my dear, yes. I do not wish to share your location with anyone.. I could not stand the thought of Lord Voldemort discovering you.   
But I will see that your familiar is transported after you.. perhaps a week after you arrive, to allow for a reasonable period of hope that your fate might not have been that of abduction.” 

The headmaster wanted to prevent Tom from finding her. He would put her somewhere where she could not be found.   
“When will I leave?” She breathed. 

“Well... “ the Headmaster said slowly. “There is no time like the present I suppose.” 

Full scale panic broke out inside her. Wild extreme burning freezing screaming and running panic. Run!! Run!!!! A voice screamed out inside her head.   
“May I go to my room first?” she asked, petrified.

The headmaster frowned. “I think it would be better if you did not, Hermione. It should look as if you have vanished without packing, when we check your things.” 

And now she did burst into tears.   
“May I not even take my photos?” she whimpered. Or my letters – what difference would it make – nobody knows they are there anyway!   
I don’t want anyone going through my things – I have letters from Victor in there!   
It’s bad enough that I have to give up everything here, my friends, Harry, Professor Snape, the library – and go off to some bloody mountain alone - but to have everyone rifling through my stuff and talking about what I did or didn’t want to do with Victor or just what I might have written about my friends when I was in a mood with them. It’s not fair Headmaster!!” 

Professor Dumbledore leaned forward and took her limp hand, patting it gently.   
“No.. I’m sorry Hermione. It isn’t” he said shortly and stood.   
A moment later there was a massive shift around them and she realised he’d lowered the wards around Hogwarts. She’d never felt such a massive ward shift. Her eyes widened and she didn’t even have time to pull away, let alone draw her wand and activate the necklace, before he was apparating them both away. 

They reappeared on a grassy slope and she fell down hard, the chair that had been beneath her now gone. 

She looked up terrified. The sky was wide and cobalt blue. Small fluffy clouds drifted across it. The grass she sat in was tall and fragrant. 

The headmaster inhaled deeply and smiled beatifically “Mountain air. Wonderful!”   
He looked down at her and his forehead crinkled sadly. “I apologise Hermione, but sometimes these things are best done quickly. If you follow the rise behind you you will come to the chalet. Inside is everything you could possibly need. A potions lab will be installed in the next few days. I must return to Hogwarts now – it does not do to allow the wards to remain down for any longer than a few minutes at a time.   
Please do not attempt to venture beyond the blue marked posts – I have set powerful wards to protect this area from detection and penetration. For that reason neither patronus nor owl will find you here. Similarly, your own magic will not be able to escape the wards. If you have need of me – you may contact me using an enchanted mirror I have set up for you in the study of the chalet.   
I may not always be available to speak to you, therefore if you have a message and cannot reach me, please pin a note to the surface of the mirror and I will see it when I return.   
Good luck my dear.. I am so very sorry that it had to come to this.”   
And without waiting a minute further he had turned and disapparated on the spot. 

She immediately drew her wand and activated the necklace.   
There was no discernable reaction.   
Not that there would have been had she been elsewhere – but she somehow knew that it had not transmitted outside of this place. It was as Dumbledore had said – magic did not penetrate the shield. 

The realisation hit her - how completely and utterly trapped she was and how stupid she had been not to have immediately activated the necklace when the Headmaster started talking of her abduction.   
She had calmly sat there and discussed it with him, as if she could talk her way out of the situation and just go back to class.   
FUCK!! FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!!   
She was sitting on a fucking hillside god knows where – it could be Switzerland, Austria, France, Italy, Germany.. it could be any bloody place.   
It could be freaking Canada and she’d have no way of knowing.   
She was just.. dropped here. 

Tom would be furious when she didn’t write again.   
Oh god.. what if the Headmaster found her diary and somehow managed to use it to trick him?! NO!! She wanted to go back! It was a mistake! She didn’t want to let Tom be killed. He couldn’t die! 

She got to her feet and ran up the hill almost fearing that there would be no chalet – that Dumbledore would have just dropped her on a penned in area on a hillside and left her there to starve or freeze unseen by the outside world, but no – a large brown wooden building appeared some way up the hill as she topped the rise and she raced to it. 

She ran through the rooms of the place at high speed and true enough there was everything she would need here to be comfortable, to keep herself busy. The study had a well stocked library (entirely without anything even slightly dark of course) and the kitchen had cornucopia charms on the fridge – her goods would replenish themselves from wherever Dumbledore was sourcing her food.   
She made a mental note of that and kept looking.   
The room that was to be her bedroom had a single bed with a canopy.   
It looked.. almost exactly how she would imagine decorating a room designed for ‘a little Gryffindor princess’. There was an abundance of red and gold and lots of frilly pillows.   
There was a teddy bear on the bed...   
The wardrobe was full of clothing, both muggle and wizarding in her size, although at the end of the closet she saw much smaller sizes too. How long had Dumbledore been planning this, she wondered.

The house was quite comfortable - If you ignored the absence of any means of communicating with the outside world. She plopped herself down on the sofa and allowed herself to have a good cry.   
There was a great yawning temptation in her to just give up. 

 

 

The Dark Lord was extremely concerned. He’d felt Hermione suddenly panicking. She had been anxious, which had drawn his attention.. then suddenly her distress became acute and many times greater than it had been with Harry Potter’s awkward little kiss or the Malfoy boy’s attack. She was terribly afraid and then.. then she had been gone. The sensation had winked out as if snuffed and he could feel her no more. 

He was sitting at his desk trying to think.   
He had just burned his diary, incinerating hers in the process. It was possible she had been discovered..   
He could not tell whether the ending of her signal was due to her death. The necklace she wore could not be removed by foreign hand. Either the girl had to remove it herself or ask someone to remove it for her. It was a peculiarity of the stone within it – an aspect of its protective nature.   
It was possible she had been forced to remove it – it would account for her terror. 

He wanted to know what had happened to her..

After deliberation he decided to call upon the Malfoy boy. To question Severus would be to reveal the girl’s position to him and he suspected that might be quite unwise with the man’s preoccupation with her.   
It took half an hour before young Malfoy apparated into his study and he crucioed him immediately in fury for making him wait. 

“What took you so long, useless boy?! When I call – I require your presence immediately.” 

The boy bleated excuses about needing to get out of class and having to leave school grounds. He waved them away with a gesture.   
“Something has happened to Miss Granger” he informed him quickly. “I was monitoring her and she has..disappeared. She was..very afraid before it happened. You are to go immediately and discover what has occurred with her. Do not allow Severus to know of any of this!”   
The boy looked alarmed and nodded, disapparating immediately, not even stopping to bow. 

He threw himself down in his chair angrily. If that damned old goat or his little order had harmed Hermione...  
He fumed. The girl belonged to him.   
He hated to have his possessions taken – even those.. especially those he’d stolen. 

 

 

Draco ran the whole way back through the forbidden forest, disillusioning himself when he reached the treeline and limping his way back up the hill, forcing his body to comply through the pain.

How was he supposed to find out what happened to the mudblood?! He wasn’t a Gryffindor – he couldn’t exactly check her room. He didn’t have astronomy with her so he had no idea where she’d be for the next period.   
He could hardly go to the Headmaster and ask whether the order had done anything with her.   
What the hell was he supposed to do?! 

He stopped and then concentrated and summoned a broom from the quiddich supply closet.   
A minute later it sailed through the air to him and he mounted it and flew up to the dorms of Gryffindor tower looking through the windows to see if he could see her anywhere.   
He had no idea which room was hers and she wasn’t in any of them. It was difficult to see through the mullioned panes of the common room windows but he was sure she wasn’t among the few students in there. 

He landed and abandoned the broom, rushing into the castle and going to the Great Hall.   
Severus and the headmaster were missing from the head table, he noted.   
That wasn’t the best sign.   
The two weasels were at lunch but Potty and the mudblood were not with them. They both looked worried and the weaselette was gripping her brother’s arm as if to stop him from charging off.   
As if something she’d said had set him off, he suddenly tore his arm away and charged out of the room, not even noticing Draco standing there in his urgency.   
The weaselette sat and looked distraught, wringing her hands indecisively. 

Draco turned and followed Weasley. Perhaps he would lead to the mudblood. His behaviour wasn’t normal anyway.. even for him.   
He found himself following him down into the dungeons and realised where they were headed.   
He disillusioned himself once again and followed at a safe distance. 

It wasn’t a big surprise when Weasley started banging on his godfather’s chamber door and yelling for him to open up. 

It was surprising that it took a bloody long time for the door to open and admit the weasel.   
He crept forward but it was closed again before he got there and the perfect silencing charms on his godfather’s quarters made listening pointless. 

He was leaning against the opposite wall of the corridor when pothead came racing out, in teeshirt and jeans and barefoot and pelted up the corridor at top speed toward the upper levels.   
The weasel followed him a moment later yelling for him to wait for him.   
The door remained open and after a few second his godfather came to the door. He looked distressed and off kilter, his hair was-... 

Draco gaped and then turned to stare down the corridor after Potter.   
Had the pothead been.. been shagging his godfather?!..   
Sweet fucking Salazar..that was almost as fucked up as the mudblood sucking off the Dark Lord. 

“Draco.. In here. now!”   
Severus voice was icy. 

His head whirled back to look at the man who was glaring at him poisonously from the doorway. He flinched.   
Shit. He’d seen him.   
There was no point in remaining disillusioned so he dropped the spell and slunk past the threatening mien of the potions master.

No sooner was the door closed than Severus was rounding on him and bore down, herding him against the opposite wall.   
He panicked and reacted with self protective instincts, holding his hands up in surrender “Hey! steady on! What the hell, Severus?! I just followed the weasel down here because he was acting bloody weird in the great hall. What’s happened?! Why are you angry with me?!”   
He heard the word his godfather spat and felt his mind forcibly breached. He barely managed through excessive will power to keep his thoughts focused on Granger in class and Granger in the great hall and the Dark Lord before this week.   
By the time Severus pulled out, Draco was physically exhausted and slid down the wall panting.   
Severus looked at him suspiciously. “Feeling..unwell, Draco?” he asked with false concern. “been under the Dark Lord’s wand lately?” 

He looked up unwillingly and spat “You know I have, you prat. I saw him yesterday when he assigned me to do all your busywork. He never lets me out of there without punishment.” 

His godfather’s face softened somewhat and he extended a hand to help him up.   
“I apologise Draco. I am..concerned. Weasley informed me that Miss Granger was apparently definitely on her way to speak with me over an hour ago and did not arrive. She is not known to often decide on whim to do other than announced, much less so when she is concerned about that thrice damned boy. If you know of anything – you will speak now!” 

Draco looked at his godfather with unease. “I have no idea where Granger is” he said honestly “But why do you even care, Severus?! ...You’re worrying me..”   
He stopped, afraid that he’d revealed too much.   
His godfather’s face flashed a stricken expression for a moment and then shifted to blankness.

“Draco, you are uninformed as to the interrelation of events. It is not your place to question me.” 

Draco sneered, disgusted.   
It was Severus who was uninformed.   
Damn it.. He was beginning to think the Dark Lord was right. His godfather might be a traitor. He wanted it not to be so.   
“Fine.” He snarled and pushed past Severus, striding to the door and letting himself out. 

Outside he immediately turned up toward the upper levels. He had to find out what Potter and the others were doing. Someone would tell them what was going on if Granger had been taken by the order. At least.. they probably would.   
He walked back into the Great Hall.. the three objects of his interest were gone.   
As if a gift from the fates, Potter raced into room after him and spun racing back out again with the weasels. “He’s not there. Come on. His office” 

Draco disillusioned himself again and gave chase. 

They went to the headmaster’s office. As he neared the weaslette was asking something and her brother said. “She isn’t on the map. That means she’s either not in Hogwarts anymore or.. or..”   
Potter almost shrieked “She’s not dead! Don’t even say it! She.. she just went to Hogsmeade or...or something.. She’s fine!”   
The gargoyle leaped aside a moment later and the three raced up the stairs.   
Draco turned and saw his godfather storming up the corridor. He surreptitiously stepped back into an alcove, pressing into the shadow. So long as he didn’t move suddenly or stand in bright light, he would..probably.. be undetected.   
He let himself slide down the wall to sit and wait. 

It didn’t take too long. The two weasel siblings came out without potty. The weaselette was crying and her brother didn’t look too bloody far off it himself. 

This wasn’t reassuring. Whatever had happened to Granger – it wasn’t some innocent misunderstanding. She was either dead or discovered he figured. 

He stood carefully, ignoring his protesting muscles, and trailed after them, keeping to the shadows.   
“-this happen?! How could they even get her inside Hogwarts?! What will happen to her?!” the weaselette sobbed.   
Weasel the senior looked like he was having trouble holding himself together. His voice was raw and shaky. “We’ll get her back, Gin. We.. we have to.. If... if he hurts her, I’ll..fuck..we..we’ll just get her back, ok. Harry will come up with a plan or something.”

The girl wailed. “But..what happened?! How did they get her in the middle of the day inside school?! I thought we were safe!! I thought Harry was SAFE here!” 

Draco stopped, shocked.   
It didn’t sound like they thought Hermione was dead or that she’d betrayed them. It sounded like they thought that she’d been abducted by death eaters.   
They were talking like it was a given.   
What the hell had Dumbledore told them? Why would they think that?! 

The two he was following let themselves into the portrait hole. 

He supposed that it could be just a lie so as not to upset everyone with the idea that Granger had turned on them.   
Either Granger was missing on her own steam – but that didn’t explain why the weasels sounded so convinced- or she was taken by the order and they were lying about what happened to her. 

Or.. he supposed.. she might be dead and they had decided to blame it on the Dark Lord. 

He considered waiting around for Potter..   
He couldn’t go to his godfather – the man was already suspicious of his involvement and he wasn’t acting right when it came to the girl. He might do something violent if he thought Draco might know more than he had found earlier. He doubted that Potter would talk to him if he approached.. and he’d hardly talk to himself if he came out alone. Neither Severus nor the Headmaster would be likely to discuss whatever had happened in the halls... there was probably no point to waiting around..

Decided, Draco made his way back to the Dark Lord.

 

 

It was his fault! Severus berated himself internally.   
No! No it was bloody Potter’s fault..   
no.. he should have known better. It was his fault. He shouldn’t have given in to temptation and become distracted with the boy. He might have been able to prevent whatever had occurred if he had not been locked in his quarters buried in the damn boy’s throat.   
He climbed the stairs to the headmaster’s office with his head in chaos. Halfway up, he stopped and struggled to master himself. He couldn’t walk in there like this.   
The events of this morning would be known to Albus if the bloody boy had stormed in there in a state like he himself was in, however there was the matter of the Dark Lord’s project and his ..offer.. he couldn’t let that information slip out now. It would beg the question of why he had not shared it yesterday. 

He took a deep breath and centred himself, then continued on. 

At the door he met with the two Weasley children. They were in a terrible state. He felt a painful clench in his chest and stepped into the room without knocking.

“Ah Severus” Albus acknowledged sadly. “I had wondered when you would come. I am afraid the news is not good. Miss Granger is no longer on the school grounds.   
And.. I thought it best not to share this with Ronald or Ginevra but.. I found this at the entrance of the dungeons on my way to visit you regarding Harry’s training.”   
The headmaster reached into a drawer and pulled out a piece of black fabric.   
There were darker wet patches on it. 

Potter... raced forward to look at it.

“it is a piece of her robe.” The Headmaster explained. “The blood is hers. It appears to have been ripped off, perhaps during a struggle. There were several spatters on the flagstones near it also. At present, barring any further evidence, I am forced to assume that Hermione has been abducted by agents of Lord Voldemort.” 

Harry dropped to his knees, his hands tearing at his hair. “She.. she can’t be. It’s a mistake. She.. I...please..”   
He looked to the headmaster and turned back to look up at Severus pleadingly. “She isn’t... say she isn’t...hasn’t been... he doesn’t have her!. Test it and make sure its hers! Please!!” 

Severus had been thinking almost the same thing and reached for the garment.   
The headmaster offered it freely. “Yes Severus. Test it. I have performed my own tests that have assured me it is her blood but it is always useful to have a second opinion.”

Severus frowned. “Albus.. I.. must leave. I need to go to him to try to ascertain what has happened to her.” 

The headmaster looked sad.   
“Do you believe he will tell you the truth, Severus?! If he did not inform you of the imminent attack, he is unlikely to bring you into the loop now.   
I am deeply saddened by this development. Hermione Granger was the brightest..most promising..student I have encountered in many, many, years. If she should perish in this unfortunate manner it would be a tragic waste.” 

“Stop it!” Harry cried. Severus could see the boy was beginning to fall apart   
“Stop saying that. Stop talking like she’s going to die – she’s going to be fine! I’ll get her back. I’ll.. She’s not a waste of a promising student she’s an amazing person – better than everyone else I’ve ever met! I love her! After this is over I’m going to marry her!! She can’t die! I won’t let her! He can’t have her!”   
Harry turned and looked up at him pleadingly again as if by force of will Severus could bring her back.   
“Go and find out what’s happening.. please Snape! If.. if she’s there – bring her back!!” 

Severus nodded and blinked, startled. At what point had he started taking orders from Harry bloody Potter?!   
He frowned and looked up at the headmaster.   
Albus was watching them both calculatingly.   
Severus swallowed. “Will you cancel my classes, headmaster? I will go now, if you are agreeable.”

The headmaster nodded once, but his eyes were hard and entirely twinkle free. “You will come to me the minute you return, Severus. Before you do anything else I will see you here in my office. Go now.” 

Severus looked down at the boy on his knees below him and experienced a momentary incongruous wish to take him into his arms and comfort him.   
He knew exactly how it felt to have the one you loved torn away violently. He only hoped that this would not be a repeat of that experience. 

If the Dark Lord had Hermione.. 

He looked at the suddenly small and broken boy again.   
Would he kill him to save her life?   
He wasn’t certain now.   
If this had happened yesterday there would have been no hesitation in his response. But.. the complexion of things was slightly different now after this morning.   
He tried to tell himself that it wasn’t but knew he was deluding himself. This..whatever it was that had flared up between them abruptly.. was just one more thing.. one more weight in support of saving the boy. The promises he’d made..Lilly..and now that raw need in the boy’s eyes.   
He decided that..yes.. if the Dark Lord were to promise him Hermione.. perhaps he might..but he would prefer that not to be the turn events took. 

He turned on his heel and marched out. 

 

 

Hermione sat in the study of the chalet and wrote on a piece of parchment. She had positioned the mirror so that she could see into it but her own writing was hidden. She did not want her actions to be viewed. 

She was writing down everything she knew about her environment...that is – the environment within the chalet.   
She didn’t want to set out to try and find the perimeter this late in the afternoon in case she ended up stuck somewhere all night. 

No matter how bloody clever the headmaster had been in designing the place, she had nothing better to do with her time than come up with a way to escape and she would succeed. If she could just find an angle. 

As far as she could see there were only really three options to get out.   
Either she could find a way to bring down the perimeter wards. Unlikely but possible she supposed.   
Or she could somehow convince Dumbledore to come here and in some impossible way overpower him and force him to take her out of here.. or at least force him to knowingly or unknowingly carry a message out..   
or finally.. and maybe the most possible – she could try to find a way to reverse the spells on the cornucopia in the kitchen and try to either escape through the device (she wasn’t sure what it would do to living objects passing through it.. obviously if it were simply possible to travel by cornucopia there’d be no need for floos) or try to get a message out. 

First and foremost she had to measure her environment and then she had to try to work out where she was. She suspected this might be possible using the stars and maybe the herbology of the region.   
Damn it.. why hadn’t she started on Tom’s herbology book instead of stupid Senatus. She needed information, not philosophy.   
Even the forgotten curses would have been more useful – at least she could have flicked something obscure and difficult to counter at the Headmaster maybe. 

...potions. He was going to let her brew potions.   
The book tom had given her to learn was a compendium of dark potions that could be brewed with rather common ingredients.   
Perhaps.. maybe! Maybe maybe! Liquid imperius was far more difficult for the victim to counter than was the unforgiveable spell – which relied upon a casters will. If one’s will was not stronger than the victims then it would fail. She suspected that the headmaster was an extremely strong willed old bastard. But the liquid imperius could be imbued with a command.. say.. get me the hell out of this godsdamned cage... and the victim literally required an antidote to throw it off.   
That might be an option..   
but it would mean playing nice and sucking up so that she could get access to the potions lab she had been promised. It was an option.   
She thought about the other potions she had learned in the book.. and about every other potion she had ever learned.   
Making a list took a long time. At the end of it, liquid imperius – or gren and gables geas as it was technically called – seemed the best option. Thank goodness she’d gone over it with Professor Snape. 

She wondered what would happen with him. Had he known that the headmaster planned to lock her up here? He had seemed a bit suspicious of her.. maybe he was the one who told the headmaster that she was dabbling in dark potions.   
He would certainly know that Tom wasn’t responsible for her abduction, surely. 

She leaned back and thought about it and groaned.   
He would just assume the Dark Lord was suspicious of him – which he was obviously - and the headmaster would probably concoct some kind of evidence. 

Aaargh. 

What about Tom.. he’d find her – surely?!   
But.. if the headmaster didn’t tell a soul about her, and it seemed a lot like he didn’t intend to do so, then the only way Tom could find her location if it were secret kept, would be to get his hands on Dumbledore and that certainly seemed likely. 

If she couldn’t get herself out of here she was probably on her own.


	9. Chapter 9

The boy had performed adequately, he thought as he leaned back in his chair. 

The situation was as unfortunate as he had suspected. 

He was anticipating Severus would turn up at any minute and be irritatingly vague and tentative at him.   
He wanted to detain him and take him apart piece by piece until it became apparent whether he knew anything of what had happened to the girl.   
He knew he would not do so. 

Hermione was lost. Likely discovered. Hades help them if she was dead. He would be extremely displeased. But it remained that Severus was once again his only spy with access to the order and access to the boy.   
He should not have sent the chit back.   
It had been greed. Greed and complacency. He underestimated his opponents observational capacity. It was an error he would not make again. 

The Malfoy boy had been selectively obliviated of his memories of the girl. Before the boy had disapparated, he had informed him that he was to listen for any information pertaining to Potters mudblood and report on it. He would summon the others that had attended that meeting two days ago later and obliviate them all too. 

Grimly pensive he was staring at the unlit grate when he felt the faint tingle that registered as Severus particular mark.   
Each of his servants felt slightly different when they called. With some.. Crabbe for instance.. he actually experienced disgust and the wish to clean himself.   
Severus particular call felt crisp and inexplicably angular. Soft and silky and dark. Rather like the man himself, he supposed.   
He sent back permission without moving. It required but a concentrated thought to activate any of his marks. 

He steeled himself as the crack sounded and Severus apparated in, dropping to one knee smoothly, with the ease of years of practice. 

“My Lord..” he acknowledged. 

The Dark Lord raised his eyebrows curiously. “More news Severus? We are having a busy week , are we not?” 

Severus face displayed no trace of his thoughts.   
He probed tentatively.. blank as a sheet. 

“Yes, my Lord...” his servant said with a slightly pinched look.   
It was..faintly detectable to him that the man was quite upset. Although he would be hard pressed to pin down exactly what about him demonstrated it. He looked to the casual observer cold and collected as ever. 

“Potters mudblood has gone missing, Master.” 

He felt the weight of the Potions Master’s scrutiny. He did not bother to feign surprise. “Yes.. I am aware – young Malfoy has just informed me. I am rather put out.” 

Severus brow winched itself up a measured centimetre   
“Then it was not your order, my Lord?”

He shook his head ruefully. “No Severus. Although I wish now that I had moved more quickly with plans to acquire the girl. Do you have any information as to what may have befallen her? Does she live?” 

The Potions Master looked dubious at the information that the Dark Lord had not been involved.

“The headmaster informed me that a piece of her schoolrobe was found bloodspattered at the entrance to the dungeons. I have yet to test it, however if it is hers it would seem to suggest that whatever occurred, it was not a willing departure.” 

Lord Voldemort nodded thoughtfully even as he felt himself grow cold. “Such a waste” he said obliquely.   
Severus seemed indecisive.   
“Spit it out, Severus” he commanded wearily. 

“My Lord.. “ the man petered out woefully. 

It did not matter – he could see what the problem was. He sighed.   
“Severus, come to me” 

The man rose uncertainly and approached him. 

“Kneel before me, my servant and take out your wand”

The potions master obeyed hesitantly and startled visibly when the Dark Lord pressed the tips of their wands together.   
“I swear to you, Severus, upon my wand - that I am not involved in the disappearance of the Granger girl – I neither took her, nor ordered her taken and I do not know where she may be or who is responsible for removing her.” 

The eyes of the man kneeling at his feet suddenly flooded with some indefinable emotion and he looked lost.   
“My Lord... I ..I did not doubt your word..I..” He looked down. 

The Dark Lord smiled wanly and raised his hand, brushing his servant’s inky hair aside from his face and cupping his cheek. “Quite alright Severus.”   
He hesitated.. To open up to Severus regarding.. some aspects of the girl’s connection.. would be beneficial should he truly be uninvolved in her apprehension. He would not be startled by the news of her betrayal and he would gain further trust in his master..   
If he was involved in her abduction, chances were that he already knew about it.   
Important was only, he reasoned, that the man not have any idea of the carnal nature of their connection. That would certainly be problematic. If he believed however.. that he might have the girl after this war was over.. 

He hovered indecisively and then made the decision. 

“I will reveal to you something that I have been keeping from you, my servant. I thought it prudent not to burden you with the knowledge..” 

The black eyes he looked down into grew shuttered and wary.   
He stroked the warm cheek gently and tilted his head. 

“I have been corresponding with Hermione Granger.. it is an extremely recent development. The girl contacted me through Lucius Malfoy barely days ago and sought, if you would believe it, my tutelage. She wished to learn the dark arts.”   
He smirked fondly at the widening of the onyx eyes which probably constituted shock and horror for the non-demonstrative man.   
“At first I thought it amusing to train Potter’s little friend in the very thing that this war truly revolves around – for that is what it amounts to - do not be misled Severus. It is not a blood war, in any more than a purely pragmatic sense, for the purebloods are frequently foolish and do not notice chains being laid about them until they are fully immobilised, however they will grind into motion when it comes to their precious inbreeding practices. When I have seized power it will be immaterial, after a very short time, why or how I came to be there.   
Despite appearances - this is a war of freedom, Severus!   
The Ministry of Magic.. the Order of the Phoenix and that old despot Dumbledore would seek to regulate magic – to inform the public what they may and may not know, what magic they may and may not practice.” 

“Where there was knowledge.. there is now black and white, dark and light – an arbitrary distinction made by some ignoramus in a stuffy room who has never even seen the spell or potion in question, merely read a report about it written by a snotty nosed underling.. or by a council of ignorant, corruptible and self serving fools – who would seek a monopoly on power.   
Only the ministry shall be allowed to utilise certain spells and potions.. The ministry may detain witches and wizards at their pleasure.. torture them.. execute them.   
One may be thrown into Azkaban for an indeterminate number of years for the illegal brewing of veritaserum.. as you know.” 

The dark eyes turned down and away uneasily.   
He knew he had Severus right where it hurt. The potions he had no doubt brewed with Hermione were all regulated and would land her in Azkaban if discovered. Severus himself had earned himself hundreds of years in that hellhole, if the ministry regulations were to be considered. 

The potion masters eyes showed sudden horror “do you think that..”

He shook his head slightly “I do not know yet, my servant. It is possible.” 

He lifted the man’s face with two fingers under his chin. “Do you believe the girl deserves the dementor’s kiss for her curiosity?” 

Severus swallowed and looked guilt ridden. 

“Let me put it another way.. Were you tempted to teach the girl so called “dark” potions?”   
Severus sighed and nodded.   
“As was I.   
I corresponded with the girl only briefly before I recognised that she was exceedingly bright...she grasped principles very quickly and retained and extrapolated her understanding further.   
I enjoyed discussion with her.   
Severus – I gave her texts from my own library. Nothing dangerous of course.. – or rather, nothing dangerous to the reader.” He leaned back in his chair, irritated once again at the circumstances. 

Severus looked fundamentally shaken.   
“My Lord.. I am...confused. I had thought that...those of inferior blood..”

The Dark Lord frowned at him angrily. “Have you not been listening, Severus? I have only just finished telling you of how little true importance blood status is in comparison with knowledge..with ability. Why did you imagine I promoted you so quickly? You are, as is common knowledge, a half blood, Severus.   
Hermione Granger’s blood is of little interest to me, although I would obviously not announce this to my servants. At least not at present. ...However I would have offered her exactly what I offered you at the conclusion of this war – a place to live and work on whatever she desired.” 

“With those of true ability – it is not necessary to shackle them with orders – whatever you.. or she.. worked upon, I have no doubt would be both fascinating and of worth to the wizarding world.” 

The man looked perturbed, as if he did not know what to believe.   
“What would you have me do?” 

The Dark Lord smiled thinly. “You have always known what I would have you do, Severus. However.. if you cannot kill Harry Potter – at least find the girl.   
If she lives.. bring her to me. I will allow her to assist you here as she has been doing at Hogwarts. She will be protected.” 

He saw the temptation and covetousness in the man’s eyes.

“It will be as you say, my Lord” he said with a hard expression. 

The Dark Lord traced his hand up his face and into his hair gripping gently. “I am pleased, Severus. You have always been my favourite, you know..”   
Again he had the satisfaction of seeing the man’s eyes flash in surprise. Content, he released his hair and waved his hand to dismiss him. 

The potions master stood and backed away hesitantly, his bow was rather less clipped than it commonly was. 

Musing on the meeting after the crack of disapparition had faded, the Dark Lord sighed. It seemed that this entire war hinged and always had hinged on that rather surly young man..  
Extraordinary.   
Perhaps.. if he had kept him in his bedroom all those years ago, many things might have occurred differently. 

Alas.. hindsight is 20/20.

 

 

Severus walked into the headmasters office deeply concerned. 

If the Dark Lord was not behind Hermione’s absence... But it couldn’t be the ministry..she couldn’t be in Azkaban.. Albus would have told him.   
The only explanation was that it was the headmaster himself. 

He walked in, preparing himself for conflict. 

“Ah Severus.. you have returned. Have you learned anything about Miss Granger?” The headmaster sat back in his chair coolly scrutinizing him.. 

He knew suddenly that it was true. Albus had done something with Hermione.   
He schooled his features, reflecting incongruously how similar the headmaster’s chair was to the Dark Lord’s throne. 

“No... I’m afraid the Dark Lord was rather reserved on the matter. He said he had nothing to do with it but I could not determine whether it was true.” 

The headmaster looked at him grimly.   
“Sit down, my boy.” He gestured to the seat before the desk.   
Severus felt immediately wary. Albus never had him sit there.. it was always by the fire. He lowered himself to the chair cautiously. It was only seconds later that he realised he could not move. 

“Oh Severus..” Albus said sadly. “I have known you for twenty years. Do you really think I cannot recognise when you obscure things from me? I do not need to read your mind to know what has been taking place with you.” 

Severus felt himself go suddenly cold.   
He was in trouble.   
A lot of trouble.   
He focussed intently, strengthening the fortifications around his mind. Preparing for the worst.   
He had a feeling it was a waste of time. Fighting seemed so pointless. He was absolutely overpowered. He grit his teeth. It was the chair. The feelings of despair and hopelessness. Damn the bastard.

“What did you do to her, Albus?” he hissed icily. 

The headmaster gave him a withering look.

“I hardly think you are in a position to accuse me of harming the girl, Severus.   
...I am disappointed..so very disappointed in you. You encouraged.. nay assisted..an innocent student to practice the dark arts.. within these protected halls... knowing..how wrong it was, you did it even so.   
What has happened to you?! You have struggled with the darkness for years.. how could you put a child through that horror?   
Not only a child but one so..gifted.. so promising as the girl...” 

“I knew of your obsession with her, Severus...I curse myself for indulging you but I thought to remind you for what you fought. But... after this morning...” 

Severus blanched. He had himself been feeling somewhat guilty about what had transpired with the boy. 

The headmaster frowned at him “No Severus.. not that.. I am aware of the boy’s part in that.. I am talking about your temptation to kill him!” 

He felt his eyes widen and his mouth drop open helplessly.

“Do you really imagine that I do not have eyes in your quarters, Severus. You enter regularly into Voldemort’s presence. I could not allow such a vulnerability if I were not confident in your loyalty. Nothing you do within these walls is hidden from me!” 

Severus slumped slightly. He was truly sunk. It was likely he would not leave this office alive. He’d betrayed the order with his ..appetites.

“You will open your mind to me, Severus. You must show me what else you have hidden from me.” 

Severus shook his head numbly.   
“What did you do with Hermione Granger, Albus?! She does not deserve this.” 

The face of the headmaster darkened. “No, Severus. I agree. She does not.   
I have put her somewhere where she will be protected for the remainder of this war. Where she will not be surrounded by dark influences.   
She will work in the service of the wizarding world..in the service of the light. ...Whether she wishes to or not. Now.. lower your defences!” 

The horror washed over Severus.   
Hermione had been enslaved. That was what it amounted to. If she was being held somewhere.. for her protection.. where she would work in the service of the light.. it amounted to working in service of Albus..   
He realised, as he never had before, that Albus was the essence of the light.   
He was perhaps the one largely responsible for the move to outlaw ‘dark’ practices.. yet he himself..judging by this chair.. judging by his use of legilimency.. his not infrequent dosing of the unsuspecting with mild forms of veritaserum..his ruthless bloody determination to control Potter... He was in practice, a dark wizard.   
A dark wizard with an image so light it set all others into darkness in contrast.   
Albus was darker and more merciless than Severus himself had been at his worst..

“No. I won’t. You will not tinker with my mind, Albus. Do what you must.” 

Albus narrowed his eyes at him and smiled wryly. “Severus.. you always did have to be difficult, didn’t you?!   
He summoned an object wandlessly from the side of the room. It was covered with a black sheet. He muttered a spell and the sheet became clear.   
He could see Hermione sitting at a desk writing. She looked quite well, if angry and concerned. 

“She cannot see or hear us at present. As you can see.. I have not harmed her.” 

Albus summoned another object under a black sheet from the side of the room. This time he removed the sheet. Severus saw a yellow canary in a small gold cage. 

“Are they not alike..” the Headmaster said quietly.   
“The canary has everything it requires within the cage. It is not free.. but it can sing and even fly a short distance. It is safe within the cage.”   
He drew his wand and cast a spell at the cage silently. Severus saw a bluish dome appear around it. It was strangely viscous with slight milky lines that swam over the surface liquidly. 

“The bird is unaffected, as you see.. and in fact.. it is even safer than before..” He cast a green flash at the cage which dissipated. 

The hairs on the back of Severus neck stood up at Albus effortless use of the killing curse. 

The headmaster looked at Severus evenly.   
“However Severus.. the bird remains safe only at my discretion. Should it sing the wrong notes..”   
He looked at the cage and the bird screeched and flapped, shaking and falling off its perch. After a moment or two it rolled and hopped back to its feet, sitting on the bottom of the cage with its head ducked in fear.   
Severus eyes slid helplessly to Hermione working at her desk. He prayed that the headmaster would not demonstrate the same effect upon her now. 

The frightened peeps of the bird drew his eye back. He saw the blue milky dome shrinking. The bird fluttered and tried to fly as the space around it became smaller.   
Severus watched in horrified fascination as it was forced fluttering to the floor of the cage, and then there was not room to flutter anymore.   
He heard only a sickening little squeak as the bird was crushed to death. 

“Now... I will tell you only once more..my boy.. open your mind to me.” 

Feeling himself shaking Severus looked once again at Hermione. She was brushing her quill over her eyebrow and looked to be thinking hard about something. 

“You.. you wouldn’t..” he whispered, terrified that the headmaster in fact would. 

“Try me, Severus..” Albus warned him. 

Severus felt his resolve crumbling. He couldn’t do it. There was no point in resisting. There was nothing to be gained and..too much.. to lose.   
He let his occlumentic walls drop. 

The force with which Albus pushed into his mind was dreadful. He felt his memories being rifled through and consumed rapidly and then he felt one dragged forth and he was immersed in the moment, forgetting everything

 

“Potters mudblood has gone missing, master.” He scrutinised the pale unnatural face, the red glittering eyes. 

“Yes.. of that I am fully aware, Severus – obviously.” The Dark Lord smirked down at his kneeling form.   
“I had her brought to me. In light of Potters dream – she does scream rather prettily, doesn’t she?! I had wondered whether it was merely the boy’s fantasy.   
She is in the black room at present. Would you like to see? I was planning on going down there shortly anyway. I suppose you may accompany me.” 

The Dark Lord rose and straightened his robes, then stalked over to him gracefully. 

“Perhaps I may allow you a turn with her, Severus. Would you like that? I know that your taste has always run to the muddy.” 

Lord Voldemort reached him and placed his hand on Severus shoulder. It clamped onto him like chilly bony death, making him shudder in revulsion. The disapparition pulled him away and released him on a different floor, swaying. 

“Rise and enjoy the spectacle, Severus” the Dark Lord hissed. 

He climbed unsteadily to his feet and looked down the steps at the ring of the dark auditorium. 

The centre was bathed in light from black iron torches staked around the edge of the ring. They threw their light only inward, leaving the periphery in darkness.   
In the ring.. he felt a sickening kick to his intestines at the sight. 

In the ring Hermione was..naked..being held by Dolohov, against his chest, with her arms behind her back while Rodolphus held her hips and fucked her brutally. Her eye was blackened and her cheekbone and mouth massively bruised and split. She was whimpering helplessly, turning her face away.   
There was blood on her thighs.. blood on her breasts.. handprints..and little cuts.   
Rodolphus damn knife was in one hand, as he gripped her tiny hips with both, slamming into her with visible pleasure. Behind him, in the periphery his brother stalked around, obviously impatient for his turn.   
Hermione was no longer struggling at all. Her appearance certainly suggested that she had struggled valiantly at some point. 

Severus wanted to fall to his knees and weep at the destruction of the girl.

The Dark Lord was watching his reaction and it was almost more than he could manage to keep his face empty of reaction.   
“Would you like a chance at the girl, Severus?” 

He almost flinched. Merlin.. no.. if he went near her he’d pull her to him and refuse to let go. They’d both be killed. He couldn’t.   
It.. it was too late for Hermione.. nothing he could do right now would help her.   
He could only hope that the Dark Lord would keep her alive. But he certainly had no wish to be forced to rape her violently, and that was the only way the Dark Lord would allow him to be near her now.

“No thank you, my Lord” he answered lowly. “I prefer unsullied flesh and my appetites lean toward the masculine these days.” 

The Dark Lord sneered at him and returned to watching the action below.   
Severus forced himself to turn and watch also. 

Rodolphus had just finished and Rabastan was positioning himself. He watched in painful frozen helplessness as Hermione was anally raped.   
At some point then she was pushed, dazed and barely responsive to the ground and forced to straddle Dolohov while Mulciber forced his way into her back passage and Rabastan shoved his still erect, filthy cock into her mouth.

He heard the Dark Lord snigger beside him. “I wish you to show this memory to Harry Potter, Severus” he said in a voice that brooked no argument. 

Severus nodded numbly, unable to speak.   
Rabastan was skullfucking Hermione roughly. Her eyes were glazed and stared in front of her unseeing. The ‘spectacle’ as the Dark Lord had put it, went on for a long time. When one of the men was finished, another Death Eater would replace him. The one in her ass seldom finished there, but replaced whoever was in her mouth as soon as they were finished.   
It was beyond awful. It hurt his mind to see the girl desecrated and broken.   
She looked like a puppet covered in blood and cum, unresistingly moving into whatever position hands shifted her into. 

Finally the Dark Lord dismissed him.   
He did not find out what would happen to Hermione, but he assumed she would live for the moment, or else he would have been required to witness her death to take back to Potter. 

 

He blinked, disorientated. He was in the headmaster’s office and Albus was looking horrified and saddened.   
“Great Merlin, Severus.. the poor girl! What are we to do?! I.. I need to think. Leave me. Return later, if you would. I..I will think on what may be done about Miss Granger.” 

Severus himself felt sickened. He stood shakily and walked woodenly to the door, almost forgetting to close it after himself. 

Hermione.. He wanted to go back and try to find her.. try to ger her out of that place but he knew he could not. The Dark Lord would know. He would be exposed.. everything..everything would be lost.   
He thought on Harry... he could not allow the boy to die. To fail. The Dark Lord would be destroyed. This kind of horror would come to an end.

 

 

Harry sat on the couch and felt cold. The fire was on. Snape wasn’t back.   
He hadn’t had the strength to go and be with Ron and Ginny right now. 

This couldn’t be happening. Any of it. He wanted...he needed Hermione back. 

Professor Dumbledore had talked at him for ages after Snape left, telling him that it was probable that she would not survive and that difficult things were in store  
...and then he had told him that he was to begin finding and destroying the pieces of Voldemorts soul that were scattered around.   
Only he could do it apparently. 

Harry couldn’t think. Didn’t want to think.   
He was to blame for this.   
The headmaster hadn’t said it in so many words but he’d made a comment about Sirius and Harry thought he might die from the pain and guilt.   
He’d said he would protect her and then he’d left her alone – the very next day!   
And now.. now she was gone and he might never see her again and it was HIS FAULT!! 

The sound of the door closing gently made him stir. He looked at Severus imploringly and his heart sank. 

The man looked destroyed..

Harry felt himself slip down on the sofa and curl into a ball. He barely heard the low unhappy voice as it hollowly confirmed his fears “He has her.”   
He could not stop the panicked hysterical tears. This was not supposed to be happening. She was safe here! She was.. oh god.. what was he doing to her?!

“Did you see her?” he demanded in a high pitched frantic voice. Maybe Voldemort just lied.. maybe..

“yes.” Snape’s voice was like the grinding shut of sarcophagi. 

Harry sprang up, ready to demand more information but the haunted eyes of the man stopped him dead.   
When his voice came it was a whisper, breathless, suffocated. “h..how was she?” 

Snape turned away and wiped his hands down his face unhappily. Finally he responded. “She is alive.”   
Looking troubled he conceded “at least she was when I was allowed to leave” 

Harry looked at him with horror – “You just left when you didnt have to?! You should have stayed with her! Damn it Snape – you should have brought her back!!”   
He couldn’t stop the hopelessness of it all and now and dropped his face into his own hands ..the hate and scorn for Snape overwhelmed him.. he would never have left Mione if he’d been there.. even if he couldn’t do anything, he’d have stayed with her.   
Sudden arms around him caused him to panic and struggle automatically, but they held him tightly and he heard Snape’s voice closed to his ear. “Shh. Shh.. it’s ok Potter. It will be alright Harry. I..I will do everything in my power to bring Hermione back. I swear it.” 

Harry felt his resistence crumbling and leaned into the large body.. into the warm security of the arms. “Why did you leave” he moaned miserably. “she..she could be..”

The arms tightened around him further and he had the feeling that Snape too was seeking comfort. “I..could not watch any more..I am sorry..It was...too much.”

Harry groaned in diffuse pain at the implication.   
He had no words.. he was nothing but guilt and pain and fear. There was nothing left.

“Show me” he choked out tightly. “I..I need to..”

“No.” Snape cut him off, his voice fierce. “There is no good that can possibly come out of sharing that memory with you. And..the Dark Lord ordered me to show you. Potter - What..was done.. was done for one reason alone and that is in the hope of breaking you – for that reason alone I cannot.” 

Harry half turned and buried his face in the expanse of black robe and hard chest. “Help me..” he whimpered. “I ..don’t think I can do it.. I.. I don’t want him to hurt her.. make him stop! If I go to him.. will he let her go?”   
Snape gripped him by the shoulders and pushed him back, glaring down into his face. “No, Potter. He will not. He will kill her in front of you and then he will kill you as you mourn her. And then, Potter, he will have a revel to celebrate before he rips the entire wizarding world apart. Stop talking so foolishly.”   
The arms pulled him back against Snape’s chest and he wrapped his own arms around the man, sobbing pitifully. 

After a long time he felt Snape slip his arm underneath his knees and lift him, carrying him into the bedroom, still clinging to him, and placing him on the bed. Nothing was said. He simply lay down with him, holding him and stroking his hair comfortingly. Eventually Harry had no more tears left and slipped into an exhausted sleep.

 

 

Lord Voldemort was weary. It was almost five am and he had been up all night, first obliviating those who had attended the meeting with Hermione Granger. He had hesitated somewhat over Lucius and the man had not made it easy, resisting him wilfully. Still.. the truth of his indulgence in the girl was better protected. 

After that he had spent the rest of the night searching for methods through which he might locate her. Dowsing and scrying in all its forms proved fruitless – even with the use of the girl’s virgin blood.   
It suggested that wherever she was..if she lived.. she was heavily shielded. 

He had summoned several dementors and quizzed them..with difficulty.. on the presence of the girl at Azkaban. The dementors possessed a hive mind. What one experienced, all experienced. It made them extremely effective when they swarmed. But as they were incapable of communication in any external sense it meant that one had to perform a form of legilimency..upon them.   
It was perhaps the most distasteful sensation he knew of. It felt as if one were dipping their awareness in black sticky ichor which seeped into one coldly, clinging, delving, invading.   
He withstood his distaste until he was certain that no new prisoners had arrived at the prison in several days. 

His next avenue of inquiry, he had determined, would be to have several high level ministry employees and aurors captured. 

He expected Severus to go to the order and report on his findings there. If he were in luck.. the girl would be in the hands of the ministry.   
That would be the best option – the ministry containment procedures were rigorous but could be defeated with adequate strategy. 

The worst case scenario was that the girl was dead or being held by Dumbledore himself somewhere – which would possibly amount to the same thing if he were to attempt to reclaim her.   
The old bastard was every bit as ruthless as he himself. He knew that he would not hesitate to sacrifice the girl if he had her, should he think that doing so would materially harm his foe. 

He lowered himself to his sofa exhaustedly.   
What did it matter..really..if he found the girl or not. What was she to him?! He had known her for days. She was a child. Was this effort worth it?   
If she had been killed last week, he would not have blinked.   
She was nothing to him. 

..She used my wand.. a dark little voice piped up in the back of his mind. 

..I offered her my wand, without a second thought.. My magic recognised hers. She is mine.. 

And that was the point. She was his. He would not allow her to be stolen away so easily. She belonged to him. 

His eye wandered idly along his bookcase.. it stopped on a brownish tatty looking book on the second shelf from the top.   
It was a thick tome.. he’d only used it rarely. It radiated malevolence. It was one of the books in his library that posed a real and deadly threat to the untutored reader. This book would eagerly consume the soul of the hapless knowledge seeker if given the chance.   
It was tatty because it was bound in human skin and required regular oiling to prevent from cracking. He tended to forget to oil it. It didn’t really earn its keep in many ways. 

This book was beyond black. It was very nearly intrinsically evil.   
But right now it occurred to him that it did potentially offer a source of information that might be able to assist him. 

The book was a tome centered around the invocation of other-dimensional creatures. Things commonly referred to as demons or evil spirits – however their nature was more complex. They were simply another form of life, quite different from the lifeforms in this dimension, which they tended to view as some kind of perpetual buffet behind glass.   
From their vantage point, unfettered by time and space, they had an overview of events shielded even to wizards. 

If Hermione were contained somewhere, they would be able to find her. 

The problem was, however, that they were notoriously difficult to deal with – far more so than the dementors, werewolves, inferi, vampires, giants, centaurs – they were a whole other order of difficult.

They did not possess loyalty, they could not be appealed to or seduced or reasoned with.   
They could be bound, for a time, but the cost would be high and the term of the binding far too short and they would be furious when they were finally loosed. 

It was not possible to bargain with them – asking them for anything meant that one’s soul was irrevocably forfeit the moment the boon was provided and they were cunning tricksters – practiced over millennia at coaxing the human mind into unwise phrasing that could be construed as a request. 

It was likely that they could find Hermione.. it was possible even that they could retrieve her.. but the price would be high, as would the risk.   
They could harm her.. ...they could somehow trick him into error. They could seek revenge.   
He turned his eyes away from the book firmly. No.. it was an unwise plan. He would pursue every other avenue first. 

He let his arm fall over his face. He didn’t feel like dragging himself to bed. It would be morning soon and he would have to summon his servants to send them out hunting.   
Before he drifted off he thought about lying with the girl in his bed mere days ago and feeling tempted to forget her value as a spy and keep her with him.   
If he had given in to that desire he could be lying with the girl now, sleeping comfortably, sending Potter pensieves of her joy, her pleasure. 

Yes.. he should have kept the girl and allowed Severus to work with her here. 

He should have sought to reclaim Severus through her.. not replace the man with her.

 

 

The sun streamed in the window as Hermione stretched and woke. She went over everything in her head, snuggled into the duvet.   
She had burned all of her calculations yesterday and had every intention of doing so every time she committed something of importance to paper. 

Grudgingly she sat up and looked around the ‘barbies-dream-prison’ room.   
There were ruffled net curtains over the window like puffy clouds. A painting on the wall depicted a boy sitting in a tree. She glared at it suspiciously.   
The little dark haired scruff winked at her and waved. He looked a bit like a very young Harry. 

God.. that too.. she cursed. Bloody spies in her bedroom.   
That utter bastard. 

Aside from the obvious fact that she was under constant surveillance, she’d never even be able to masturbate here.   
It would be perverse to do so with a freaking six year old boy watching. 

She got up. Thank goodness she had dressed in her pajamas in the bathroom yesterday. She went to the bathroom and got a towel, returning and draping it over the painting.   
The boy, before she covered him, looked hurt and surprised.   
She suppressed her guilt. Guilt was counterproductive. Guilt was Dumbledore’s weapon. That and people’s innate wish to be of use. 

She showered and dressed quickly. It was her intention to head out and try to find the edge of the shield she was under. 

This desire fizzled when she went downstairs however and found Dumbledore sitting in the kitchen drinking tea as if they were on bloody holiday or something. 

“Good morning Hermione.. I didn’t like to wake you. How did you sleep? Well, I trust. The air here is most refreshing, don’t you find?”   
He smiled at her like someone’s grandpa. 

She fixed him with a neutral expression and responded “Very well, thank you sir. Yes. The air here is fine.”   
Her plans to make tea or have breakfast went out the window. She realised suddenly that she didn’t trust anything in her kitchen now.   
It was a daunting thought. What would she eat?! She had to consume something sometime! 

“Wont you sit down, my dear. I have a number of things to discuss with you.” 

She acquiesced. It was not as if she could go anywhere here anyway. 

“Excellent. I’m so glad you are choosing to be reasonable, my dear. That will help immeasurably. I would like you to give me that necklace you are wearing, if you please.” 

She startled, her hand going to it. No way. Not in the slightest. If he was asking.. it meant that he probably couldn’t take it. If he wanted it.. it meant that it was probably still of use to her in some way.   
The thought struck her. Well yes – obviously it was. It was occluding her. He couldn’t get into her head when she wore it.   
He couldn’t see her thoughts or memories and that meant that he couldn’t obliviate her, couldn’t imperius her, certainly couldn’t convince her to believe anything she did not wish to. 

“I’m afraid I will not do that Headmaster. It was a gift and I’m not giving it up” 

The twinkle vanished from his eye like a cloud passing over the sun. 

“I really must insist, Hermione. It is for your own good, you know. You have made some..unfortunate choices of late; things that I would not have thought you foolish enough to consider.   
Betraying your closest friend in the world.. betraying all your friends.. and all for knowledge that you know will poison your mind..will ruin you.   
Do not make it any worse than it is. I have been extremely lenient with you, in light of your past sacrifices for Harry and the order.   
I am trying to help you, my dear. You must give up that cursed stone. It is affecting your mind – preventing you from thinking clearly. “ 

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “No.. I think taking it off would prevent me from thinking clearly, Headmaster.” 

His expression darkened. “You were being so reasonable, Hermione.”   
Pain suddenly ripped through her, casting her mind into chaos. She screamed in shock, slipping helplessly off her chair to curl into a ball on the floor. It felt like her nerves were being stripped raw.   
The wailing sound was her own voice.   
This was worse than Bellatrix’ cruciatus. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t think.. she just wanted to do anything to make it stop.. anything anything..

And then it did stop and she sobbed, her hand around the dark red stone at her neck. 

Her mind flowed back. She couldn’t.. she couldn’t give him the stone – he’d have her believing she was in love with Harry and would do anything to kill Tom.   
She couldn’t do that. Anything but that. 

She didn’t want to kill Harry but she refused point-blank to kill Tom.   
It had felt...he had felt..so right, when she touched him.   
She shook her head blindly. “NO!” 

The pain gripped her again and she curled tight and sobbed and pleaded incoherently. It went on and on. And when he released it and she didn’t comply he applied it over and over and over again.   
She thought she’d go mad. But it was still preferable to killing Tom. 

After what seemed like hours Dumbledore huffed irritatedly.   
“This is all unnecessary, Hermione. What you are protecting is indefensible...perverse...evil, my dear! And what you are giving up is your own happiness and the happiness of the wizarding world. You must realise that! Do you not wish to be happy?” 

She managed to choke out, with difficulty. “I was happy.”   
The aged wizard snorted at this.   
“Very well, Hermione. You may have a day to think over the error of your ways. All of this could be so much more pleasant if you would just make the smallest concessions.   
Take off the necklace, Hermione and you may work on potions...spells... I will transport half of Hogwarts library here if you will only do this small thing.” 

She sniggered under her breath. “If I do.. I’m sure you won’t need to – I’ll want to do whatever you want me to do, won’t I?!” 

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. “I hope..that we will speak again..Hermione” he spoke quietly. 

His words chilled Hermione. That didn’t sound good. 

“I will return in twenty four hours.. I only hope that you will be more reasonable by then. Goodbye my dear.”   
He disapparated with a pop. 

She lay on the floor thinking frantically. That wasn’t good.   
She slowly pulled herself up off the floor and recovered. Whatever he’d done, it wasn’t the cruciatus. There wasn’t the muscle ache that the cruciatus caused. She hadn’t felt that clenching over expansion either.   
She got to her feet experimentally and pulled her wand out. Detection charms didn’t find anything different. After a while she sat and thought.   
There was nothing she could do if he was going to come back and kill her except try to get the fuck out of here.   
There was no way to create any potions, letalone the geas and if she took the necklace off to get a potion lab she highly doubted that she’d even remember the dark potions she’d learned, letalone want to use them on the headmaster.   
No.. she suspected she’d be ever so grateful to him for bringing her here so that she could concentrate on..whatever he wanted really. Probably something to do with Tom’s demise 

She would try to dismantle the wards first and if that didn’t work she’d come back here and spend all night trying to reverse the cornucopia charms in the kitchen. 

There was no time to waste. She set off. Reasoning that she had no idea which direction was the closest to the edge of the wards or whether she was in the centre of the circle or off to the side, she set off down the hill. Going up would lead her to mountains and the edge could be miles away. Going down meant that coming back would suck but there was probably less danger of injury.

It took her the better part of the day to find it. She had seen the bluish shimmer from far off but the air was so clear that it had been much, much, further than she’d anticipated.   
She sat in front of the ward now finally and rested. 

It made a sound, she had noticed. A kind of.. unsettling.. sizzling noise. Like frying bacon in another room. And there was a vague milky opalescence to it.   
She had not touched it.. She had a feeling it wouldn’t be a good idea.   
The stick she had tossed at it had become stuck and now hovered in mid air. Summoning it had had no effect. 

She tried every spell she could think of to examine the ward.   
It was strange.   
Most wards felt..woven.. you could unravel them if you could find the edge, so to speak.. but this.. had an almost liquid feeling. Like a bubble.   
It reminded her in a way of the bubblehead charm. 

She threw spell after spell after spell at it, blasting spells, even unlocking spells. She used everything she had and nothing seemed to make any impression upon it.   
Frustrated she huffed and threw herself down on a flat rock. 

The valley she was in was quite beautiful, objectively seen. She could see down the hill and way off in the distance there was what looked like a small settlement. Barely a town. There were cars. Only a few. 

She put her head in her hands. Maybe she could dig under it? 

She looked up and startled. The wall was moving!   
On the far side of it was a flattened, yellowing line in the grass. It was moving inward!! Quite quickly! 

She leapt up and off the rock, dashing backward.   
The blue wall moved at a brisk walking pace inward, leaving dead plant matter behind it, a fat line of brown on the ground.   
She ran back up the meadow a few hundred metres and watched it approach inevitably. When it got to about ten metres away she turned and ran some more, putting distance between it and herself. 

In this manner it chased her back to the foot of the hill upon which sat the chalet perhaps five miles away. 

She was extremely unsettled. What would have happened if she hadn’t noticed it moving and it had touched her?!   
In the distance she could still see the stick that she had thrown into it hanging in midair. She had a very.. very.. bad feeling about this.   
Casting tempus she found it was three pm. Dumbledore had left her around ten thirty or so and she’d set out soon afterward. That meant it had been five hours.   
How often was the thing moving? How far had it moved?   
She peered into the distance and figured the blackened earth had to stretch for at least a half a km now. It was awful! It looked like the ground had been scorched or poisoned. 

If the ward had moved faster than she could run... 

Feeling sick she turned immediately and started hiking back up the hill. The path was not straight and god knew when that horrid thing would move again.   
If she’d known this she would have started with the cornucopia and waited for the ward to get closer – she’d wasted five hours hiking and she was probably going to waste almost as much getting back. 

This was bad! 

She picked up her feet and forced herself to speed up. She was thirsty and her feet hurt.. but she didn’t want to find out what it felt like to be caught in that ward. 

By the time she got back up to the chalet it was seven pm and getting dark. The ward had chased her an hour ago.   
Her path moved diagonally up the hill while the sizzling wall took the direct route. She was panting through the pain in her chest as she dragged herself at a jog up the path. 

At the moment it had stopped again. It seemed to move every couple of hours. 

She struggled up the grassy slope of the final stretch and flung herself through the door into the kitchen.   
Fuck.. fuck.. what was she going to do?! It would be here in a few hours.   
She threw open the cupboard door and set herself down on the floor, trying to calm down. She needed to still herself so that she could focus on perceiving the shape of the spell linking the cupboard with wherever it was refreshed from. 

It was so hard to make herself calm. She might be dead in a few hours. 

 

 

The Dark Lord fumed. Getting his hands on the ministry employees and the aurors had not been without its sacrifices. One of his mid level death eaters had been killed by one of the aurors before the group could disarm the man.   
The boy had been quite young and promising. He had participated regularly in raids. A waste. 

The auror responsible had died slowly and painfully after his interrogation. 

And it had all been for nothing. .. or practically nothing.   
Lord Voldemort was now almost certain that the ministry had nothing to do with Hermione’s disappearance.   
He hoped Severus had been more successful with the order. He reasoned with himself that it was only nine pm. It was unlikely that Severus could freely escape the busywork of teaching in order to pursue order members and probe them for details that they had clearly not chosen to share with him.. he should leave him be and hope that the man returned tomorrow with news.   
But he had a nagging feeling of dread in his gut. A sense of urgency that he hadn’t felt yesterday.   
He wanted results now! 

Against his better judgement he activated Severus’ dark mark. The man would come and report on whatever he had found! 

 

 

The sudden hiss and flinch around him woke Harry suddenly.   
He reoriented himself quickly feeling the warmth next to him move away. He wanted to cling and pull it back. 

“What is it? Is it him?!” he demanded, worried.

The figure now seated on the edge of the bed turned away from him nodded. “He is summoning me. I must go. He feels..agitated..” 

Harry swallowed and sat up, turning over and crawling to Snape’s back, rising up on his knees and wrapping his arms around him.   
“I...I don’t want you to go... but I want to save Hermione...I just.. don’t want him to hurt you too.” 

The back his chest was pressed against moved as the man beneath him snorted.   
“It is somewhat late for that, Potter. He has been..harming me.. one way or another..since long before you were born.”   
Harry held him more tightly. “Be..careful..” 

Again the man scoffed but, as he stood and summoned his robe, he said quietly. “Stay awake in my absence.”   
Moments later he was gone, sweeping out the door in a billow of black. 

Harry knelt, alone again, feeling the despair rush in like icy water.   
It was worse now.. now it felt desperate and urgent and raw and.. he felt like he wanted to jump up and blast something.. the buzzing in his head was horrible.   
Was this because of Voldemort?   
Snape had said..he was agitated.   
The fucker should be pleased as pie right now – he’d done something truly horrible to someone Harry loved. What the hell had happened? 

He moved back up the bed and crawled under the covers, stripping off his clothes as he went. 

Actually.. yesterday all day he hadn’t felt any sense of happiness from that place in his head that was the whine of Voldemort. He’d felt anger and worry.   
Maybe his own emotions overwhelmed it. Maybe that’s what they were doing now.   
He folded his arms and thought about all the things he’d like to do to that snake faced bastard if he had him at his mercy.

It was the safest thing to think about right now. 

 

 

The Dark Lord waited.. what was taking the blasted man so long?! Finally there was the crack and Severus spilled into his study, falling to his knee and looking down. 

Voldemort felt irritated at wasting another half hour in which his concern seemed to only grow.   
“Well?!” he demanded, glaring. 

Severus looked up with a blank trained expression and responded “I showed the boy as you required, my Lord. He was extremely distraught. He is sedated in the infirmary at present.” 

The Dark Lord blinked. “Showed him what?”   
What the hell was the man on about? Had he showed him their last conversation? What in the world for? 

Severus’ eyebrow twitched in confusion. “My Lord?” 

The Dark Lord bared his teeth at him in irritation. “Speak plainly – what have you done since you left my presence last” 

The potion masters face turned blank.   
“I reported to the headmaster. I spoke with Potter and showed him the memory as you wished, after he was admitted to the infirmary I returned to my quarters and prepared material for my classes this morning, then I brewed some minor potions for the infirmary, my Lord. Today I have taught classes and checked on Potter in the infirmary.” 

The Dark Lord leapt to his feet “WHAT?! What are you talking about, Snape?! What blasted memory?! Why have you done nothing?!” 

Severus looked appalled. His stare broadcast the fact that he suspected that Lord Voldemort was losing his mind.   
The fact that he showed this, only served to express how shocked he was at the Dark Lord’s reaction. 

Impatient and extremely concerned now Lord Voldemort flicked his wand, sealing off the room. Severus would not leave.   
Another flick and the man was suspended in the air by his wrists, his wand floating toward the Dark Lord. 

“We will begin with - What. Memory. Are. You. Talking. About?!” he demanded through his teeth. 

Severus hung, wide eyed and responded “The memory of last night, my Lord. The girl. The black room.”

Lord Voldemort leaned heavily against his desk, his mind racing.   
Severus memory had been tampered with. Dumbledore had the girl. 

He wiped a hand down his face, disgusted at this..this..waste of time! 

When he spoke he felt weary.. as if this..all of this.. was time that Hermione did not have. He was going to fail. 

“Severus.. You are unlikely to believe me when I tell you this.. but whatever you remember.. did not happen. I do not have Hermione. I certainly did not have her tortured in any way yesterday.   
I sent you to find out whether the order had her.   
I can only assume that they do.. judging by what you now hold to be reality.” 

He looked into the fire.   
Sighing he flicked his wand, releasing the man, who crashed down to his knees on the floor.   
Severus looked up at him warily. He looked back at him wearily, attempting to find the strength to unravel this mess once again.

“I have been looking for the girl since Draco informed me she had disappeared, Severus. The dementors have not seen her at Azkaban, I have spent most of the day interrogating ministry stooges and aurors, none of whom had any idea what I was talking about..   
I spoke with you yesterday.. Severus.. I made a wand oath to you.”   
He lifted his wand and summoned a portable pensieve. A moments concentration and he drew out a silvery filament of memory, flicking it into the liquid.   
“See for yourself. Your memory is inaccurate. It has been altered. When you return, I will make another oath to you, if you wish.” He offered the pensieve. 

The man on his knees accepted the small bowl hesitantly, looking up at him with flickers of hope in his eyes.   
He could well imagine why. If Severus remembered Hermione in the black room, whatever he saw would likely not have been pleasant in conjunction with the girl. 

The potion master’s eyes took on a whitish glaze. He was inside the memory. 

The Dark Lord paced away and seated himself in one of the chairs, crossing his legs and tapping his fingers on the armrest. The feeling of urgency was visceral.. he needed to do something now!   
It took half an age for Severus to return and the look on his face was flashing back and forth between suspicion and hope.   
Lord Voldemort snorted and huffed   
“Fine. Come here.”   
Severus complied immediately, rising and seating himself on the coffee table in front of him. The Dark Lord suppressed a momentary flicker of annoyance at that.   
He returned Severus’ wand tohim and made the wand oath quickly and unhesitatingly.   
When it took and his wand was no worse for wear, Severus sighed in relief. “Thank Merlin.” His eyes turned up to meet the Dark Lord’s “I..do not know.. what happened since the time of our meeting, my Lord. I know.. that I have spent the entire day with Potter in my quarters. He was...we were...distraught over the fact that you had miss Granger..” 

The Dark Lord’s eyebrows flew up. 

Severus looked down and swallowed.   
“The boy is...he has some kind of..reaction.. to me..when we are close. I cannot explain it. He seeks out my proximity.” 

As interesting as this was, it was nothing to do with the matter at hand. Lord Voldemort brushed it aside with a gesture.   
“I must view your memories Severus. You know that it will be useless if you put them into a pensieve. I need to feel them. I am not asking. You will show me the events following our meeting. If they remain in your memory at all, I will dig them out of you.   
I have been having..a peculiarly ominous foreboding all day. Time is of the essence.”

Severus, astoundingly enough, nodded and gave him his eyes. His gaze was strangely calm and relieved. 

A second later the Dark Lord plunged into his mind. He tore through to find the memory he needed. He found Severus in his study yesterday. Only faintly discernable, because he recognised where true events had deviated, there was the edge of the false memory.   
He watched the false memory through, feeling furious and galled. He recognised the memory. It was a different witch.. a different time.   
Dumbledore had obviously selected one of Severus own memories and altered only the identity of the witch being used. 

The woman in question had been a redhead. A slender beauty. Her family had reported her father’s brother as a death eater and he had been arrested and sent to Azkaban.   
This event was a punishment to them for their actions. The witch, a pureblood, had not been killed, but had been left curled on their doorstep naked: beaten, torn, nearly catatonic, covered in piss and come and blood.   
Afterward, her family had sent money and offered their support. The girl had three younger siblings. 

When the recognisable part of the memory ended and Severus disapparated, arriving at Hogwarts and going to the Headmasters office it was more difficult to detect the graft. He had no memory of his own to compare to it. He flicked back and forth, not finding any irregularity anywhere..   
Finally, at his wits end he found it. Dumbledore had grafted a false memory onto his walk back. An arbitrary point in the forbidden forest. But there was nothing to probe beneath. He had obliviated the true memory. 

He roared with rage, pulling out. “It is gone.. he destroyed it. Confounded son of a syphillytic whore!!”

Severus looked concerned too.   
“You know what will happen when I return, my Lord...” 

The Dark Lord’s eyes flicked up to the brown tome in his bookshelf and then back down at Severus. His eyes narrowed.   
“No. you cannot return, my servant. We must employ..other means..to recover her, I suspect.” 

 

 

Hermione was frantic. Her attempts to reverse the cornucopia spell were not working out. 

She’d felt out the shape of it and she’d calculated the changes she needed to evoke to shift the polarity but she couldn’t find a way to actually bring about the shift. 

It was after midnight and the light thrown from the kitchen door shimmered off the blue dome thirty metres from the door.   
It was like a goldfish bowl. 

The night covered the black remains of the forest, meadows, the hillside that remained in the wake of the sizzling ward.   
An hour ago she had broken off her attempts to go outside and try to dig a tunnel beneath the ward but when her secured tunnel had reached the wall she had found that the blue ward actually penetrated through the surface of the ground. It was apparently a true bubble.   
She wondered how many animals and insects were dead in the miles around the chalet. Dumbledore had unhesitatingly scorched the earth utterly.   
Irrespective what he had said about the wonderful air and the beautiful countryside he had left a blackened wasteland. She expected muggles would discover it in the morning and call it an ecological catastrophe.   
Unless he somehow fixed or hid it...

Either way.. she was running out of time. 

She raced upstairs and looked into the enchanted mirror. It was black. She picked it up and dragged it down with her to the kitchen, setting it on the sideboard facing out the window.   
Let him see it coming.   
She wouldn’t give up.. she...she wouldn’t! 

Her hand went to her throat to the teardrop stone there. 

If she took it off.. she’d probably live..   
Dumbledore would stop the ward. 

Maybe he’d stop the ward anyway if she refused to take it off. She wasn’t sure..

How could it have come to this?! She wasn’t sure whether Professor Dumbledore might kill her. 

She had to get out of here!! She turned back to the cupboard and focused once more.


	10. Chapter 10

“the salt is laid, my Lord” Severus said quietly. He had just apparated to his master’s side. They were in the dungeons.   
The Dark Lord was walking from room to room appraising the contents.   
A small boy trailed after him with his thumb in his mouth staring at the strange looking gestalt with wide innocent googly eyes. 

Only one... It would not be enough. 

It was a miserable fact that even most of the youngest prisoners here were no longer virginal. His master generally had no particular interest in whether the death eaters visited and took their pleasure with the inhabitants.

“I have no time to call for others to go hunting, Severus. You know what we require. You will bring back two offerings.   
Children, Severus. There must be no errors.   
I will retrieve two more. If you find more.. bring them. I do not know if five will be enough and there can be no breaking off to fetch more when the summoning is complete.” 

Severus nodded grimly. He had never had to do this before.. even in the worst times.. he had never killed children..  
this was an abomination. 

Part of his mind was arguing that Hermione would not want this, no matter what might be currently befalling her. But the rest of his mind had become affected by the increasing urgency of the Dark Lord.   
His master was seldom flustered and that was the state he was nearly approaching now.   
He watched as the Dark Lord pointed his wand at the small boy, casting incarcerous, to which the little fellow responded by bursting into tears. He was promptly banished to the chamber that Severus had just finished preparing according to the transferred sketch that the Dark Lord had given him.   
He had not been allowed to touch the book in question.   
Apparently, according to the Dark Lord, the book required certain rituals and sacrifices before it tolerated one reading it. He had not performed the rituals in question, therefore the book would attack him if he touched it. 

Without hesitation the Dark Lord apparated away. 

Severus himself hesitated only a moment to think of where he might go and then apparated to the county general hospital. 

In the children’s ward, everything was silent and still at one am. Muggle children slept in their beds innocently. He entered a room in which eight children lay and cast a silencio on the room.   
He would need to apparate more than once.   
Quickly he stupefied all in quick succession and selected the four girls in the room. Their blood was a more highly sought potions ingredient so he presumed their innocence might ..taste..better for the creatures.   
Levitating and grabbing hold of the two closest girls he tried to banish from his mind the thought of what he was doing. What they were about to do. 

This was..the most terrible thing he had ever done..  
...ever considered doing. 

He could run..   
he could simply return to Hogwarts and inform Dumbledore what was taking place right now..   
but the rage at Albus was sharp and bitter.   
He had obliviated him.. he had abducted Hermione.. a student.. a prodigy.. the girl he knew Severus had been rather secretly partial to for a while now.. Potters friend..   
Albus was no longer to be trusted. 

He fumed internally – how had the man even managed to obliviate him?!   
There was no way he could have drugged him.. he would never fall for something like that.. especially not if he were already suspicious when he returned from the Dark Lord.   
He must have threatened him in some way. Somehow forced him to comply.   
Although.. he doubted even Albus prodigious abilities to persuade and inflict guilt could have persuaded him to let down his defences at that point. 

Perhaps he had threatened Hermione..   
He didn’t imagine there was much else the man could use against him. It was likely. It was entirely possible then, that she could be in some state of danger. 

The impatient urgency of the Dark Lord unsettled him too. It was entirely unnatural for the man and disproportionate.   
His conviction when he insisted that they were running out of time was unmistakeable.   
Either he was a seer.. and Severus was almost certain he was not.. or he had a spell upon her.. and while this was neither here nor there – if the Dark Lord could feel such a spell, he could trace her position and he seemed unable to do that..

...or there was more to the story than he had been informed. 

He suspected the latter.   
However.. if what his master was saying was true then it was more important to try to get her back than to think about that idea.   
At all. 

He would put it from his mind until he knew Hermione was safe. 

 

 

 

Hermione was not safe. She was sitting on the floor near tears because she had figured out a way to reverse the cornucopia spell but it seemed that there was some protection against sentient beings passing through it. She could feed the cornflakes through it, could toss spoons and bread and apples and pumpkin juice.. she could put yoghurt through it.. and that was a living creature of sorts.. but it would not allow her hand to pass through the window. It felt as smooth and unbreachable as steel. 

The ward was a few metres outside the door now. She could see it from where she sat, it looked slithery and slick in the torchlight.   
Her last plan to get out through the pantry had failed and she had no more ideas. 

She had turned the mirror around in the hopes that Dumbledore might come back and she could beg him not to let her die.. but it remained black .   
So she sat on the floor with her knees pressed to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. 

It wouldn’t be long now until the ward was in the room.

 

 

The Dark Lord stood within the small protective circle at the head of the larger restraining circle for the..entity.. to cross into this dimension within.   
The tied bodies of five children lay stacked to the side at his feet.   
He was not looking at them. 

It was true that he had done many.. objectively seen.. quite terrible things.. And he had killed children before. it did not bother him. They were needed and their little muggle lives were not worth too much in comparison with the witch they would buy.   
He was not looking at them because they were conscious and would start to panic and cry when he turned his face upon them.   
They seemed to believe they were sleeping and this was a nightmare. He was quite content for them to continue doing so. 

The pop of Severus arriving caused him to turn. He frowned disapprovingly at his two tiny offerings. “Is that all?”   
The man pulled a grimace.   
“No my Lord. There are more. Will two be enough?! 

The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow. “How many are there?”

Severus flinched. “Four more” he said, clearly lying. 

It mattered little.. that would make it eleven. Eleven was a more powerful number than nine. “Bring them all” he commanded. 

The potions master looked ill but apparated away. 

After he had returned for the second time, and the protective circle was very nearly filled with little restrained bodies, the Dark Lord ordered him into it with him and told him not to move or speak, regardless what might happen.   
He gave him a handwritten parchment with the words needed to banish the demon, should the worst occur and he make a fatal error. Severus accepted it uncomfortably. 

The Dark Lord thought he should possibly send the man away.. but he found himself unwilling to do so. He could require his help at some point.   
He pulled himself together and took a few minutes to focus his intent and internalize the words he would say.   
When he felt himself sufficiently assembled, he began the invocation. 

As he spoke, his voice measured and intonation precise he felt the atmosphere in the room gradually shifting.   
It was nothing blatant.. the torches did not flare black or the air become icy – the atmosphere merely became oppressive..   
he felt heavy and turgid, as if time had slowed. 

Then he heard the sound. It was like nails upon blackboards.   
It was no sound.. it was a sensation in the mind..   
His vision altered and he saw pale white shadows around the torches, shimmers around the circle he faced. 

There was a darkening in the air before him, no cloud or smoke, simply that the torchlight did not penetrate as far, their light receded until there was an area of deep shadow in the centre of the room. 

He completed the last long strange word in the invocation and stilled.   
There was a vague shifting in the dark before him and then a high pitched voice that sounded like a multitude of voices speaking at once slightly out of phase uttered the word “Tom...” 

It sounded familiar.. 

Of all the luck..   
but it was not luck, he was certain. He had experimented with the book twice only. Both times had been terrifying. The second time he had received an entity which spoke in a multitude of different voices at times and clearly knew everything about him.   
He had almost slipped up when it taunted him about his mother and father.   
Obviously, coming so close to winning his soul (he wondered.. could the demon even take his soul, as divided as it was?!) the creature had.. hung around.. so to speak.   
Time was somewhat different to these things. A human lifetime was something like a few minutes in their experience.   
Moreover.. for some of them, the past and the future were the same thing, so it was possible, he supposed, that the entity had known he would be returning shortly, from its perspective. 

He steeled himself.   
“Name thyself” he demanded coldly. 

There was a gurgly laugh from a hundred voices, overwhelmingly children, upsettingly enough. 

“You have not learned respect yet, Tom..” it taunted.   
“we are Liastra. And you are Tom Riddle. Who is the other? His energy is greater than yours. We would rather speak with him.”

The Dark Lord gritted his teeth. “He is not for you. The blood of these children will be yours for your obedience to my commands.” 

There was a writhing and uncoiling within the darkness, but he could not make it out.

“What is it you desire us to do Tom.. ask us and we shall provide.” 

He bit his cheek.   
“No. I will tell you what to do, demon and when you obey, I will reward you with these children.” 

The burbling laugh sounded again. “Make your request.. we shall consider it” 

Tom bared his teeth. “No request, Liastra – I am ordering you to name and describe the location of Hermione Granger at this moment.   
You shall receive.. two of these tasty little children for your information. So innocent.. so fresh.” 

There was a long pause.. and then a familiar voice sounded from the darkness. He swallowed and heard the gasp behind him.   
It was the girl’s voice. It was Hermione. She said in a sultry voice “Tom... do you miss me? I miss you. I’m trapped in a kitchen, Tom! It’s got blue and white tiles on the floor and yellow wallpaper and I’m going to die here very..very.. soon.”

The Dark Lord growled in frustration as the multitude of voices laughed at him. The damned creature had obeyed his orders exactly but its information was completely useless. He needed to be more specific. He would have to reward it for nothing and the information that Hermione was truly in mortal peril did not help him to focus his thoughts to avoid misphrasing. 

Gritting his teeth he levitated two of the children who immediately started screaming frantically and struggling ineffectually against their bonds.   
The others also took up the cries and wriggled, trying to get away. With his other hand he wandlessly immobilised them, turning his attention back to the two screaming in the air. 

The demon emitted a sound like gasping and gnashing and sucking. He ignored it and moved the tiny bodies out over the large circle.   
They hovered at the edge of the darkness. With his other hand he used a severing charm, opening their tiny throats.   
The darkness immediately swarmed forward and surrounded them, they vanished into its depths and their panicked terrified screams cut off and were replaced with wet meaty sounds. 

The Dark Lord put the imaginings of what caused those sounds out of his mind and focused his mind.   
He was trying to think of a way to phrase his demand so that there were no loopholes. Finally he thought he had it.. 

“Liastra.” He intoned, seeking the demon’s attention once again.   
There was nothing as defined as a face or a body but a subtle shift in the darkness informed him that the intelligence before him had turned its focus once more toward him.   
“You will now retrieve Hermione Granger from her present location, ensuring that no harm comes to her through her transport, and will bring her here and give her to me.   
You are not to harm her or cause her to be harmed in any way.” 

He waited, nerves jangling, for the demon’s response. 

The voice that spoke was his own. A younger him. It spoke petulantly. “We do not want to. We would rather stay here and speak with you, Tom. We know so many things.. what else would you like to know? We could tell you whether the boy will kill you.. We could tell you how you might truly become immortal and ageless.. you need only ask.” 

The Dark Lord grimaced. “It is useless to try to tempt me, fiend. I have told you what I have use for.” 

The creature tried again, this time in Hermione’s unnatural sultry voice again. “Tell us the name of the other behind you. Make it speak. Do this and we will consider your request.” 

Tom hissed and clenched his hand on his wand.   
“It was no request Liastra. I have told you that he is not for you. His name is of no bearing here. You cannot have him. You may have these delicious little children if you obey the order I gave you to immediately retrieve Hermione Granger from her present location and bring her to me without harming her or allowing her to come to harm.” 

The demon whined in Hermione’s voice. “We want to know his name...such a small thing, Tom. You ask so much of us.”

He responded irritatedly “And I will reward you for what I have as..commanded of you”   
A flush of cold sweat washed over him. Fuck. He needed to finish this quickly and send the thing away. 

Hermione laughed sexily at him. “Mmmm... we can smell your fear, Tom..”

In exasperation and barely suppressed panic he flicked his wand at one of the immobilized children, bringing it into his arms and vanishing the ropes.. He used the wand to open the little girl’s tiny wrist.   
The blood poured out.   
He raised the girl’s arm and flicked the blood into the darkness before him. 

There was a hissing and yattering. “Mmmore..” Hermione groaned.. her voice slightly too deep. There was a blatant sexual component to the moan. 

“Obey the command I gave you and you shall have them all, Liastra. I shall feed them all to you when it is complete.” 

Hermione demanded breathily “No.. now!.. this one now!. Give her to usss and we shall bring Hermione Granger here and then we will have the others. It is agreed?”

Tom used his wand to heal the wound on the blond childs wrist, ignoring the angry buzzing and hissing that rose out of the darkness at the act.   
The terrified little eyes of the tiny girl pled with him.   
He looked back up at the darkness. “There is no bargain between us, Liastra. I have given you an order. When you comply I will reward you with the blood of all these children.   
So many tasty little children.”   
In a mockery of affection he cuddled the little girl to him, rocking her.

Abruptly there was a shifting in the darkness. “You drive a hard bargain, Tom” his father’s mocking arrogant voice said. 

He nearly stamped his food in rage. “NO BARGAIN, DEMON. OBEY MY COMMAND!!” he cried in fury. 

The gurgly laughter of small children sounded and then the darkness dissipated abruptly, the torchlight venturing until the entire circle was illuminated. 

He half turned and fixed Severus with a hard expression, one finger on his lips. It was not over. Simply because the thing did not appear to be present, did not mean it was not.   
He stroked the back of the little blond girl absently, staring ahead. Waiting.

 

 

Hermione was crying. She was seriously considering taking off the amulet. Her hands were on the clasp at the back of her neck, picking at it unhappily. 

The blue sizzling ward was inside the room.   
The doors were blocked off. There was only this room now. 

It moved less each time now, only a half a metre or so, but it also moved once an hour instead of once every two hours.   
She had about three cubic metres of space. 

It was three forty five am.. almost four. It would move again at ten past four, she knew. 

She was curled with her knees against her chest in the centre of the bubble. 

The mirror was outside the blue membrane now. She hadn’t had time to grab it when the ward had moved through the wall and across the counter.   
The mirror didn’t seem to be damaged, but it was still black. 

She was shaking violently, trying to decide whether she could live with forgetting about Tom and possibly ending up being responsible for his death.   
She would never remember that she hadn’t wanted to hurt him.   
Was that better or worse than remembering?!   
Was it better to be alive? If she were alive, perhaps he might still somehow find her and save her. 

But then she would be terrified! She’d think of him as Professor Dumbledore wanted her to think and his presence would be horrific. 

Perhaps he would find a way to undo what had been done.   
Or perhaps she’d just somehow come to adapt and fall for him despite the programming.   
Either way.. it was a chance. It was a single hope.   
Dying would mean the end of chances. 

She fingered the clasp, digging her nail under the catch mechanism and pulling it down.   
Swallowing and hating herself she undid the clasp gingerly and let the necklace fall into her hand. 

Suddenly it was as if the torches all started to grow dim. She looked around in panic. Was there something set up to recognise the moment she took off the pendant?!   
The room was growing darker by the second! 

She looked up at the mirror and the blackness suddenly slid aside and she saw Dumbledore’s face peering close to the class with an alarmed expression. He whirled away from the surface and only a few seconds later she heard the crack and peered through the darkness to where she dimly registered someone had apparated in. 

It was far too dark now.   
The sky had been lightening outside before . This was almost Peruvian darkness powder levels of dark. She lifted her hand and could not see it before her eyes. 

There was a zip sound and she felt a sudden release as the ward in the room was lifted and then there were heavy steps rushing forward.   
They didn’t reach her. 

She cried out in shock as she was suddenly lifted from the ground and hovered in the air. She felt.. it felt very strange.. like.. increasingly solid wet hot coils and ropes around her. Like being immersed in hot supersized spaghetti or something.. but..the texture was different. It was like.. tongues..or.. warm slightly rough textured slimy muscles.   
The sensation grew stronger and it felt like she was turning in the mass of coils and tubes.   
It was..disgusting..both inexplicably pleasurable and arousing and intensely horrifyingly disturbing at the same time.   
She couldn’t breathe but she felt like she didn’t need to.

She hung in the dark void for what seemed a long time.   
Eventually she slowly stopped panicking and curled into the things surrounding her, unable to deny the comforting, teasing sensations she was being forced to experience. 

It was..entirely impersonal..faceless..empty.. she couldn’t see anything.. nor had she any sense of a person..entity.. or any single point at which she might direct her attention.   
There was just this..coiling.. shifting..mass..everywhere.. in the darkness all around her.   
Stroking and caressing and rubbing and entangling itself around her gently.   
She whimpered as it slid around her thighs, her torso.. her neck.. over her face.. it was moving everywhere.. soft muscle and slickness. 

Had her clothes melted away? It was on her skin all over her body.. such an alien sensation and yet bizarrely familiar.. relaxing...subduing..   
A rope as wide as her arm was sliding between her legs and up, curling up over her hip and around. She felt herself gently eased open.. splayed and wanted to pull herself back into a curled protective ball but somehow the constant writhing and tangling coils around her were soporific.. hypnotically pleasurable.. and the sensation of the undulating muscle at her crux was delicious.   
She moaned. The writhing around her seemed to increase in response. Slick oily ropes slid over her breasts and the coil at her throat tightened and loosened rhythmically in time with the movement around her.   
She felt something like a pointed tip of one of the snakelike muscled tubes slide down the crack of her buttocks, probing and then it curled up and teased at the entrance to her vagina.   
She tried to move away , writhing against the wrapped loops around her thighs, her waist.. her arms and neck.. all of them pulsing and sliding constantly over her skin.   
It was ineffectual and soon she felt the protuberance delve inside her, filling her...thickening. She groaned helplessly, moving her hips mindlessly at the throbbing pumping sensation.   
It seemed like everything tightened around her and grew hotter; Oily slick warm and she was sweating inside the void of stroking pressing muscle.   
She strained against the coils and whatever was - she couldn’t deny it - fucking her.. so satisfyingly.   
The ropes at her throat and thighs only tightened, pulling her and forcing her to endure the pleasure. She yelped at the wonderful hungry ache the movement between her legs aroused in her, moving into its pulses, tightening her muscles inside.   
And then she was screaming as she shattered, coming apart in bliss. 

There was a sound like hundreds of voices gasping or sighing and she felt whatever it was slowly retreat as the coils around her loosened and slid around her as they had in the beginning ...which felt somehow more..comforting.. than arousing.. in some indefinable way. 

She curled herself gently and the hot wet ropes allowed it and enfolded her almost tenderly.   
She felt them slowly becoming less tangible and then she was floating in an empty formless void again. 

Slowly the darkness before her retreated and then she saw to her utter bafflement Tom!   
He was holding a little girl cuddled against his chest. She had her arms around his neck and her face buried in his chest.   
How peculiar!   
And behind him stood Professor Snape. 

Both of them were looking rather startled.. shocked even.   
She opened her mouth to ask what was wrong. And how she’d got here and what was going on.. but she ended up saying nothing because Tom beat her to the chase and commanded “Be silent Hermione!”

She floated peacefully toward him slowly until she stopped perhaps a metre and a half away and then a voice behind her.. or rather .. a lot of voices behind her speaking in unison from one place.. said “we want this one instead. Her pleasure is more delicious than their innocence. We will take her with us.” 

She felt horror flood through her as her mind suddenly pieced together her environment. 

Tom was standing in a white circle with Professor Snape and a lot of children.. and there was something behind her that was holding her floating in darkness and had just..   
oh god.. Oh bloody fucking hell.   
Had she just had some kind of weird sexual relations with a demon?! It had been so hard to think and she’d been...wherever..for such a long time..   
She unfolded from her curled position in the air.. realising she really was naked.

“NO!” Tom demanded. “No. She is not for you either, Liastra!! You cannot have her. I command you to give her to me now! Obey me, demon! You shall have the children instead!” 

She could see how panicked he was.   
He pulled the small girl’s arm from around his neck and slashed at her wrist with his wand, slicing it open and flicking the blood past Hermione.   
She heard a hissing and gasping much like that which had surrounded her when she’d come in the black tentacle void but less pervasive.   
“More..” the voices hissed and wheedled. “Give us more, Tom.. We will consider giving you this one.”

She watched in appalled horror as Tom, without any hesitation pulled the rather pretty little girl off him and levitated her past Hermione into the darkness.   
She was silencioed and her little mouth was wide and screaming as she floated, struggling, back out of Hermione’s view.   
He made a slashing motion with his other hand and she heard the voices behind her chittering and gasping and slurping along with meaty gristly cracking and crunching sounds.   
Bile rose up in her throat.   
Oh god. Oh god..   
There were..she counted..eight children on the floor around him.. He was going to ..to feed eight children to the thing behind her if he had to, in order to get her from the entity. 

Tom stood tensely, waiting. His knuckles around his wand were white and he did not meet her eyes, staring instead into the blackness behind her.   
Professor Snape met her eyes however and she read in them terror and disgust and guilt and longing. Clearly he did not want to be doing this either. 

The voice that emanated out of the darkness behind her startled her and she flinched. It was her own voice but it didn’t sound like her at all. It was dark.. and cold.. and perhaps even a bit sexy she was shocked to recognise. She could not possibly speak like that if she tried – it would come out sounding put on and ridiculous.   
The voice purred.. “Mmmmm... lovely!.. Give us the others, Tom. We are still hungry..” 

Tom snarled, his lip pulling up. “No demon! You shall receive the others when Hermione Granger is in my arms unharmed, as was your order.”   
He levitated a small boy into his arms and repeated his previous action, flicking the blood.   
There were sighs and gasps behind her and after a few seconds her own voice floated out of the black, poutily. “We had not tasted this one then. She is worth more than the children alone. Give us the one behind you too and we will give her to you..we swear it.” 

Tom gritted his teeth and obviously sensing what Professor Snape was about to do, thrust his left hand behind him, holding the man frozen in place and silencing him.   
He remained immobile but his eyes protested angrily.

“No Liastra.” Tom said.. a slightly desperate tone to his voice “You cannot have either of them. They are mine... You may have the children after I have Hermione Granger in my arms unharmed...and...and ...I believe I will call upon you again.. at some point..by name.. and give you further blood sacrifices. You are..a most powerful and clever creature, Liastra...but If yo..If I am displeased.. I shall never summon you again... and I know you do enjoy..chatting.” 

Hermione shivered at the breathy chuckling behind her. “Tom... you are learning respect..” a multitude of voices pronounced.   
“Very well. We will settle for the children now and you will come and speak with us again” 

Hermione found herself drifting forward again and Tom virtually snatched her out of the air as soon as she was within grasp of his fingertips.   
She heard the laughter behind her again as she was pulled hard against him and clamped to his chest hard.   
She wrapped her arms around his waist and clung to him, burying her face in his robe, not wanting to see what she knew he was doing with the hand that had left her back. 

The crunching and cracking and gristely smacking and sucking was frenzied now and there were ..orgiastic moans.. from multitudes of voices.. from children.. it was the most abhorrent perverse thing she had ever heard.   
She felt Tom’s hand return and stroke her head soothingly.   
He urged her down to the ground wordlessly and she lowered herself to kneel low at his feet, clinging to his knees, her face turned in to his robes. 

She heard him incanting something, obviously some banishing ritual and paid no more attention to it. It was over.. she was safe.   
The knowledge that children had just died because of her.. because she had been stupid enough not to run away from the headmaster when she might have had the chance.. sickened her.   
At the same time it felt unbelievably ungrateful to criticise Tom.. to dare to criticise the Dark Lord.. for what was probably the only way to save her. 

She became suddenly aware that he had finished whatever he had been doing because he bent and gripped her under the arms, lifting her up and against him.   
She felt her legs wrap around him automatically somehow. It felt like being a child again.   
Her arms around his neck and her head leaned against his shoulder..he was so much bigger than her she realised mildly. She clung and closed her eyes and let herself be carried out of the room.   
Neither Tom nor Professor Snape said anything.   
She didn’t even move when she felt herself apparated and cracked her eyes only wide enough to recognise Tom’s... the Dark Lord’s... Tom’s.. study.   
A crack alerted her that Professor Snape had followed. 

Movement had ceased and she opened her eyes wearily to look up at Tom’s expression. He seemed to be indecisive about something.   
She wondered vaguely what it was but it didn’t matter much.. she pulled herself tighter and buried her face in his neck.   
She felt his face turn down to her slightly. 

After a while she felt him sigh and his voice when he spoke vibrated against her pleasantly in his throat and chest.   
“Severus...I must rest. Hermione will come with me. You...may join us... or you may rest in my study. ...you may also return to Hogwarts if you desire.. I will not force you to remain.” 

Her Professor’s voice came from directly behind her. She felt what was probably a finger brush down her cheek..  
“I..would like to join you..my Lord... if I may. I will return to Hogwarts only if you ask it of me.” 

She felt Tom sigh beneath her again. He muttered “I hope I shall not have to”, turning on the spot and walking through into the bedroom. 

She struggled slightly and he stopped   
“What is it?” he asked concerned. 

“I want to wash..” she said tiredly. “please...” 

She felt him flinch and then their direction altered and he carried her into the ensuite bathroom. She heard water start to run and he sat on the edge of the tub with her. His hand stroked her hair again slowly.   
“I regret...what happened to you..” he murmured softly next to her ear and she curled around him more tightly. He whispered very softly “I will never send you away again.” 

After a while the bath was full and he stood. But instead of lowering her into it, he waved and dissolved his robes as he had once before and simply stepped into the tub with her still wrapped about him.   
She leaned up slightly to see his face. He looked defensive...it was an unnatural look on his face.   
She unwound herself as he lowered them both and stretched out to lay on top of him in the water.   
He didn’t unwrap his arms from around her but slouched lower in the tub till only their heads were above the water. 

She turned her head to rest it on his other shoulder, getting a crick in her neck and when she looked up, toward the bathroom she saw Professor Snape in the doorway with an intense indecipherable expression on his face. It had something of need and envy.. something of loss and acceptance and a lot of realization.   
She wasn’t sure what to feel.   
Tom had expressed quite unswervingly that he did not and would not share her. But it hurt to see Professor Snape hurt. She cared for him.   
Maybe she didn’t feel for him what she felt for..for..the Dark Lord..for Tom Riddle..but she found him attractive and she respected him.. wanted him to be happy. 

Swallowing, she whispered softly to Tom “please..” 

He knew exactly what her oblique plea referred to because he sighed long sufferingly and responded. “I have already invited him into the bed, Hermione. Do you want me to order him into the bath?! It is not appropriately sized for three.. I do not habitually host orgies in my chambers. You are being trying and I am exhausted.” 

At these words Professor Snape at the door seemed to startle.   
He vanished out of the room and she thought he had left.. She was about to react when he returned again..only.. he didn’t have his robes or shirt on!   
Professor Snape had been buttoned up to the chin almost for as long as she had known him. He didn’t have an acknowledged body to her, just a mental construct in her mind...thus it was almost scandalous to see him naked from the waist up.   
She goggled, gaping, as he strode without a moment’s hesitation to the side of the bathtub and lowered himself to his knees. 

She felt Tom turn his face toward him wearily. “yes. You may” was all he said and slowly..reluctantly, he unwound his arms from around her.   
She was about to protest their removal when she felt her hair gathered, twisted and tucked over her shoulder and then a lathery sponge was pressed to her upper back.   
Relaxing, she gave herself over to Severus’ ministrations. 

At some point Tom turned her over and she leaned back with her head on his shoulder.   
His hands brushed gently over her, sometimes at her hips, sometimes her waist as Severus smoothed the soft sponge all over her.   
If he took slightly longer around her breasts and the apex of her thighs she was too tired to really notice or mind. It all felt very nice.   
Tom pressed a kiss to the side of her head as she lay, relaxed, her eyes closed, nearly dozing. 

She allowed herself to be manipulated like a rag doll when she was sat up and her hair washed carefully by Severus gentle hands.   
Finally he wiped her face with a flannel. 

She barely registered being dried and carried to the bed.

The last thing she felt was the reassuring warmth on both sides of her as she drifted away from the turbulent events of the day into blessed respite.

 

 

 

Harry kept dropping off.. Snape had been gone for a long time.. he was more than a little worried.   
What if Voldemort had killed him? 

He had been feeling some weird things. 

He was agitated and then he was scared for a whole while.. which dovetailed with his own feelings since Snape didn’t come back so he wasn’t sure what to make of it..   
but then he’d felt inexplicably relieved and pleased and that bloody wasn’t anything he was feeling. 

It was morning and he’d been up all night.   
Snape had told him not to sleep so he’d forced himself. He had to get up and walk around all the time to keep himself awake in the silent dim room. He’d taken four showers to wake himself up.   
Class would be starting in half an hour and he was in no shape to go. He’d fall asleep in arithmancy and what was going to happen in DADA if Snape still wasn’t back?! 

He hadn’t even bothered to rouse himself to get dressed. No.. if Snape came back he wanted to be waiting here. 

Just then though there was a violent banging on the door. 

He smiled, almost willing to bet a million galleons that it was Ron – he was the only one who knocked like that. A voice yelling for Snape to open up confirmed it.   
His face fell suddenly and he ran for the door - Last time Ron had done this..he’d told him about..about Hermione. Maybe something else had happened!   
He wrenched the door wide, looking into Ron’s furious face.   
When Ron saw him in just his pajama pants he seemed to turn even redder and rushed in, looking around suspiciously. 

“Snape’s not here, Ron” Harry reassured him wearily. “He..Voldemort called him and he hasn’t come back.” 

Ron’s expression flashed through pleased, troubled and then confused   
“Well if he doesn’t come back then how are we supposed to know whether you know who has Mione?!” Harry turned away and padded over to the sofa, throwing himself down. With difficulty he forced himself to tell his friend what he would want to be told if it was the other way around

“He does, Ron. Snape went to him the day before yesterday and..well.. it’s not good anyway. He wouldn’t tell me how she was.” 

Ron trudged over to him and dropped himself onto the sofa beside him. “Oh Merlin, Harry... what are we going to do?! We have to get her back! I can’t even think about what he might be doing.. it just makes everything hurt..we have to save her! Harry! I love her! I’m going to marry Mione someday!” 

Harry didn’t meet his eyes.   
One day, obviously, he was going to lose his friendship with Ron because as noble as he might want to be, there was no way he’d let him have Mione.   
She was too good for him by far.   
Last year he’d forced himself to be the bigger man and do the right thing, seeing how she was shy around Ron and seemed interested in him..that way.. and what had the git done? He’d gone and shagged the one girl that Hermione couldn’t stand most in the world.   
And she wasn’t even worth it. “Lav Lav” was what was called an ‘easy lay’.. before Ron had started to actually date her - with revolting results. She was really irritating to have to be around - she’d slept with half the Gryffindor boys.   
She’d had a crack at Harry but he’d kindly, firmly told her he was interested in someone else.   
Lavender would shag anyone –and really nobody except Ron had ever wanted more than the occasional no strings attached tumble with her. 

And Ron had probably only done it to rub it in Mione’s face! 

He’d hung all over her with his tongue down her throat at every opportunity when Mione was around. Harry had seen her crying more than once.   
Ron was a complete prat when it came to Mione and even if Harry never managed to win her (though he was sure he could if it weren’t for everything happening) he’d really try to quietly encourage her not to date Ron.   
He could just see him cheating on her and then trying to blame her for it somehow.   
Ron was many things but the right guy for Mione was not one of them. 

“You have a plan, right, Harry?” Ron was asking him worriedly. 

Harry shook his head slightly. He didn’t. He had no idea what to do. He didn’t even know how he could get to Voldemort – before Snape had gone, he might have been able to somehow make him take him there.. but then Snape had already said that that would be pointless so Harry didn’t know what to do. 

The fire in front of them both suddenly flared green, making Harry jump. A tiny irrational little hope rose that it would be Snape, but Professor Dumbledore stepped through. He looked much the worse for wear. 

“Harry.. has Professor Snape returned?” he asked, concerned.   
Harry shook his head and the headmaster’s face fell.   
“I..was off school grounds when he left...he.. did he say anything to you before he departed, Harry?” 

Harry thought about it and then shook his head again. “Not really. Just that he didn’t want to go and that I should stay awake.   
I’m..I’m really tired sir..” he admitted unhappily. 

The headmaster seemed to hesitate unsure about something. After a few seconds he pulled his hand out of his pocket and showed them both what he held.   
It was Mione’s necklace.   
Harry leapt up and looked into the weary face with alarm. “Is she.. did you find.. Headmaster!!”   
He couldn’t articulate his thoughts properly.

“No Harry” the kind voice said quietly. “It came by owl. I have checked it and it is not cursed. It is Hermione’s necklace, as I see you recognise. I..thought she might like you to...look after it for her.”

Harry became aware of Ron looking covetously at the necklace, beside him. 

“But more importantly Harry.. I have spent all night placing very complicated enchantments upon it. When you wear it, Voldemort will not be able to penetrate your mind.” 

He proferred the necklace and Harry felt it drop into his hand, its chain slithering after. “Please do not take it off, Harry. At least until Professor Snape has returned.”   
Harry nodded and, with slight difficulty put the necklace on.   
Immediately a sense of peace and silence settled around him, much like it had felt to touch Snape. He sighed in relief. 

The headmaster smiled thinly, observing him   
“You may return with Mr Weasley to your dormitory now if you wish” 

Harry hesitated. He wanted to stay and wait. He was worried as hell that Snape wouldn’t come back. 

“Ah.. I see” Professor Dumbledore said gently. “Well it is commendable that you have finally understood the sacrifices Professor Snape makes for us all.   
Very well. remain here and wait for him. You may return to your dormitory tomorrow, Harry. Come along Mr Weasley. We will let Harry rest.” 

Harry studiously avoided the eyes of his friend who he could peripherally see was glaring at him in dismay. He was inexpressibly relieved when he left with Professor Dumbledore without a scene.   
Then it was quiet once more. 

Harry raised his hand and gripped the dark red teardrop around his neck. He didn’t even dare to hope that Snape was missing because he was saving Mione.   
He was very afraid to think about it at all. 

They could both be..   
it might be his fault.   
Voldemort might have..hurt.. Snape just because Harry had..whatever he’d done with him.   
Had..taken comfort..he supposed.. with him. 

He felt wretched and helpless. He had to find the horcruxes and end this somehow.


	11. Chapter 11

Severus stretched. A muffled incoherent mumble next to him caused him to freeze and become instantly alert.   
He remembered the events of the last night all at once and turned his head down, wonderingly, to see the warm naked half curled form of the oh-so-very-young girl that he desired. 

His eye could not help but take in the peripheral stimuli, namely that she was curled up contentedly against the chalk while body of his serpentine master.   
His master’s face was relaxed. There was a tiny faint little upturn to his thin lips.   
This was..inconceivable. 

Slowly, so as not to disturb her, he turned himself in bed to spoon against her and carefully wrapped his arm around her warm silky body. His hand rested just above and between her pert little breasts, splayed possessively. 

“Mmm” Hermione hummed in her sleep.

His eyes flicked back to the Dark Lord and he flinched. Red glittering slitted orbs were now suddenly trained upon him watchfully.   
Severus swallowed unconsciously, fear tingling within him.   
The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes slightly, scrutinising him, his gaze wandering down over the arm now between him and Hermione, and just when Severus was about to remove his arm from where it was now being cuddled by the small girl, the Dark Lord slowly closed his eyes and shifted slightly, making himself comfortable once more to sleep. 

Severus blinked and widened his eyes. 

So he was truly being invited to remain! 

He did not know what to make of it.. He..he didn’t know whether he could face being..intimate..with the man who haunted his nightmares ..irrespective how unnaturally human the Dark Lord had suddenly been acting.   
He didn’t want to remember.. it was a long time ago and he was so young then.. he’d blocked out some of the worst parts..  
The things he’d shown him in his mind as he fucked him brutally...so real.. the visions that Severus had screamed his pleasure to. It was terrible. He hadn’t cared.. he’d just been so fucking hard and hot for more..anything..anything..   
What if he hurt Hermione? He could not help remembering her being taken apart in the black room while his master sat beside him with a dark smile of enjoyment.   
Even if it was a false memory.. he had more than enough real memories just like it. This was not a tender man. The Dark Lord was a true sadist – he revelled in the unwilling suffering of others. His female playthings didn’t even last long enough to bother with feeding them. Severus had been responsible for dumping the remains more than once. 

He tightened his arm around Hermione slightly. She would not suffer the same fate. He could not allow that to happen to her.   
She was snuggled up against a viper, completely innocent to the danger surrounding her, to judge by the way she curled around him and pressed her little face into his skin. 

How had this happened? He knew that the Dark Lord could be extremely charismatic when he chose..but..it was unbelievable. 

He felt Hermione stirring and remained still, watching from beneath lowered eyelashes.   
She seemed to undergo the same flash of realisation that he had and then she looked shyly over her shoulder. He felt her curls brush his face slightly, tickling and remained still, breathing slow and deep.   
She turned back and then he watched as she rubbed her cheek against the white chest and pressed a tiny surreptitious kiss to it.   
He saw the Dark Lord’s hand come up and stroke down her face gently.   
The red eyes flicked up to his own, marking his observation silently, and then slid back down to the top of Hermione’s head. 

“I was so scared he’d make me forget” Severus heard Hermione whisper. 

The hand at the side of her face slid down and tilted her head back with a finger beneath her chin. “I will not allow you to be taken from me again.” The Dark Lord said quietly, looking down at her.   
Severus had the feeling that the words were meant for him.   
Hermione obviously didn’t view it that way as she lifted her hand and..very carefully.. smoothed it over the Dark Lord’s face..seeming to explore him; his hairless brows; his prominent cheekbones; his jaw. Severus could have been pushed over with a feather when the man closed his eyes and allowed it.   
She even ran a curious finger over the absence of a nose above the two reptilian slits..   
When she brushed the pad of her finger slowly over his bottom lip a pink tongue flicked out and licked it. Her breath caught and he opened his eyes again to look down at her with muted amusement.   
His hand captured her own gently and brought her fingers to his lips to kiss.   
Severus saw his eyes slide back over to him and those thin lips turned up into a smirk. 

“Shall we rise, my dear” the Dark Lord asked her softly.   
She shook her head and wriggled closer, wrapping her arm around him.   
He sighed and stroked her hair.   
“Tell me what happened then” his master instructed quietly. It was clearly an instruction rather than a question.   
“I could simply view your memories but then the irrepressible spy you have invited into our bed would have to be told later.” 

Hermione seemed to stiffen slightly at the words and their implication and then she slowly half turned, her eyes suspicious. Under the weight of her scrutiny he decided there was no point in feigning sleep and opened his own eyes to look at her.   
She gasped slightly.   
He allowed himself to smirk wolfishly and his hand splayed on her chest contracted and stroked back out again, reminding her abruptly of her present position. 

“Professor..” she started to say and he interrupted her, thinking it best to adjust that little factor first of all. “Severus..Hermione. I am no longer your Professor.. I rather think that neither of us will be returning to Hogwarts.” 

She swallowed, wide eyed and bit her lip.   
“Severus” she whispered nervously. 

The Dark Lord turned her head back to him with his fingertips, examining her expression judicious. “Do you still want him, my dear? If you are frightened, I will send him away..” he said solicitously. 

Severus felt himself freeze in painful incongruity of emotion. He wanted to laugh in unsettled hysteria at the concern the mass murderer was showing for her and he also quailed in fear that Hermione might change her mind and the Dark Lord would send him forth..   
Say yes, say yes.. he demanded internally. ‘Say you want me.. I..I..cannot leave you alone with him. I could never forgive myself if..’

Hermione turned back toward him tentative, uneasy curiosity mixing with determination on her face. “yes.” She said decisively.

Thank Merlin for Gryffindors, he praised inwardly. 

She wriggled until she could turn around in between them, her back spooned against the Dark Lord.   
His master seemed content to allow this, and curled his arm around her waist beneath the blankets. Severus however had lost the position of his own arm on her chest and now faced the small creature he had known for the last six years with a strangely unbroachable gap between them.   
He could see.. in his peripheral vision..the dusky pink arc of the top of her nipple above the blanket and he wanted nothing in the world more right now than to pull the blanket down, lower his head and suck upon it.   
It was perverse to desire her so.. he knew it was. He could remember the girl when she was a child.. her bright obnoxious eagerness to display her knowledge... the mares nest of auburn frizz around her face. 

“Tell us what happened to you” the Dark Lord murmured against her ear, his eyes half hooded.   
Severus saw the effect mirrored on her face. It was disconcerting to see them together.

She sighed. “It was Professor Dumbledore” she said with traces of anger in her voice.

“Yes.. we know” his master muttered, nipping at her earlobe. She gave a tiny..irresistible little gasp at his attention and Severus felt his cock twitch. He edged himself a little closer.   
The Dark Lord spoke against her ear again “Tell me what happened on the day you went missing. Were you hurt? Why did you not alert me” 

In response, Hermione looked angry. But it seemed her anger was directed at herself – she said ruefully “I was stupid. So bloody stupid. ..Harry wasn’t in class and Ron was kicking up a fuss and I thought.. maybe something had gone wrong with his occlumency training..so I was coming down to see what was going on ...and Professor Dumbledore stopped me at the entrance to the dungeons and made me feel bad for not being in herbology.   
I reacted like a total idiot and went to his office when he said he wanted to discuss something with me.   
He wanted to discuss bloody pretending that I was abducted by you. He told me I’d made bad choices and I could help Harry by forcing him to grow up in reaction to my tragic loss.   
Oh. but I’d be allowed to study for my newts and have my cat with me and he’d even let me brew all the stupid potions for the infirmary. “   
She narrowed her eyes hatefully.   
“and then he just grabbed me and I was too damn stupid to react and then he’d apparated us into the mountains somewhere – it looked like something out of the sound of music.. there was a chalet.. of all things.. and my room looked like he’d set it up for a child. Frilly.. toys..There were really small dresses in the back of the wardrobe!!   
The whole place was warded to the teeth but the wards were miles away..   
there was this.. this.. blue bubble ward around everything. I didn’t know it was there till later. I’m getting ahead of things.   
Anyway..so he came back and wanted me to take off the necklace – presumably so that he could scramble my memory and make me oh so deliriously happy to be brewing pepperup potion in the fresh mountain air. Or whatever he’d get me doing. He’d probably have had me do something to harm you.   
Do you know - He said that after the war he’d bring me back and I could be with Harry... I think that scared me most of all. There’s no way he could just bring me back like a rabbit out of a hat and say – oh Harry – by the way, here’s Hermione. It was me all the time. Surprise. Sorry you were upset she might be tortured or killed but at least the war’s over!   
Which meant he was either intending to keep me there forever.. or he was going to kill me eventually.” 

Severus watched the venom on his master’s face. He felt the same way.   
This had obviously been planned, even if she hadn’t gone to the Dark Lord. 

Damn Albus!.. He’d known the man had a somewhat skewed moral compass at times when he thought ‘the greater good’ was at stake.. but to destroy or enslave a child simply to traumatise another child.. 

Hermione went on. “-And.. so I wouldn’t give him the necklace and it seemed like he couldn’t take it.   
He did something.. it was like the cruciatus..sort of.. he tried to force me to give in.. but I wouldn’t.. and then he said he’d be back tomorrow and he implied that I’d be dead by then. I don’t remember what he said.   
It turns out there was this huge bubble ward around the place.. it was huge.. maybe ten or fifteen miles across easily. And it started shrinking and everything that passed through it was destroyed.. crushed.. burned.. I don’t know.. it was black and flattened on the other side and things stuck to it if you threw them at it.   
I couldn’t break it. I had to race back and then I tried to reverse the cornucopia charm in the pantry, but when I managed it, it wouldn’t work. I couldn’t go through it.” 

Severus sighed. No.. she wouldn’t have been able to. Those charms were not designed to admit larger life forms.   
“It was intelligent of you to think to try it, Hermione. You were not to know of the limitations.” he said quietly. 

She grimaced. “And then.. I just had no more ideas. I couldn’t dig under the ward, couldn’t break it. I just had to sit and wait until it was so small I couldn’t stand up in the room anymore. Only a few metres across.   
I had only just given up and taken off the necklace – I thought at least if I were alive maybe you’d find me...something could be done.. and the ward was getting very close.  
– well anyway.. I took it off and then it got dark.   
I think Dumbledore might have apparated in. He was in the magic mirror for a moment and then someone apparated in. It was too dark to see by then.” 

The Dark Lord seemed intensely interested now. “And then what happened? ...In the dark..” 

Hermione looked uncomfortable and blushed. “I’d..rather not say.” She mumbled. 

Severus saw the anger flash across his masters face and Hermione yelped. Apparently he had done something...   
“I would like to know, my dear. If you do not wish to share it with Severus.. or refuse to talk about it aloud.. I will look for myself. I will likely do so either way in fact. The insinuations of the demon were rather thought provoking.” 

Severus watched as Hermione clenched her eyes and shook her head – it seemed the Dark Lord was already drawing out the memory.   
“God.. stop it! I’ll tell you. I don’t want to relive it right now.” She swallowed and shivered. 

Severus waited with morbid fascination. Humans did not ..generally.. interact closely with creatures from other dimensions. There were a few dubious accounts of wizards who had employed demons as servants...or happened to require some service that necessitated physical contact with the demon in some form.. or were attacked but survived..but in general those who meddled with summoning so called ‘demons’ tended to meet a sticky end. Humans were food to them and they were very old and very intelligent.   
To..travel..with one was something he had never heard of. The creatures were maliciously capricious. If you demanded something of them, they would do all in their power to ruin whatever it was you asked for and pervert the true intention of the command.

“it was...um... I was floating..sort of...and I couldn’t see anything and then there were these like... warm wet coils... like snakes.. Uh... All around me..   
and it seemed like I was there for a very long time.   
The.. whatever they were.. the things.. were all around me..moving and slippery.. and I didn’t need to breathe.. and..and I had no clothes on. And..um..”   
She hid her face in her hands and said something he couldn’t understand, muffled as it was by her hands.   
The Dark Lord’s eyes were bright and he looked fascinated. “You will need to repeat that without the hands, Hermione. I don’t believe Severus heard it.” He said offhandedly. 

Hermione took her hands away and looked irate, avoiding Severus eyes. “I said.. it started to feel..quite good.. after a while and..and..”   
The Dark Lord leaned down and kissed her lingeringly on the side of her face beside her eye and his other hand lifted her jaw, turning her toward him slightly. He pressed another kiss to the corner of her mouth.   
“And you came..” he murmured against her skin. “is what you are trying to say.. It felt..good.. and you experienced an orgasm as a result. There is no shame, Hermione. The human body is easily manipulated to pleasure or pain. I am merely interested in your rare experience.” 

Hermione swallowed again and half nodded. “I..I know.. but.. it’s just.. when...when it happened. I mean when I actually...you know... all around me there was this sound.. it sounded like when you threw the blood only more so.   
I think it drank my energy or something. After that everything faded away again and then the rest you were there for.” 

The Dark Lord nodded thoughtfully.   
“I have heard of other texts.. similar in nature to the one that I possess. Mine deals solely with fluid sacrifices, which vary according to the level of power of the entity you seek. - Blood, tears or seminal fluid for the stronger orders, sweat, saliva or urine for the lower orders of entities.   
There are however, I have heard, other texts which utilise different energies to summon and coerce the demon – the strongest being the human sexual climax. I do not know whether there is any difference in what is summoned or the level of cooperation of the entities.   
It seems that it would be far more complicated to create a situation where one might cause sexual release of multiple subjects on command for the demon to feed upon..   
I cannot imagine such offerings would survive the ritual either if they were within the summoning circle.   
I have not investigated the area thoroughly enough to speculate. After my initial experiences with the book I possess, I decided not to further pursue experimentation. It seemed to me that the risks outweighed the benefits.”

“...Now, however.. I find myself pleased that I retained the text and gained some small experience in its operation. I would have been..most vexed..if you had been obliviated.. or Merlin-forbid..killed, my dear” he moved away slightly and pushed Hermione down onto her back. 

Severus looked down at her  
..luscious!...  
His mind was still working on the idea of Hermione having sexual relations with a demon. He wasn’t sure what to think about it. There had been no other way to retrieve her from Albus’s birdcage.   
He frowned slightly.. a faint feeling of déjà vu. 

He was brought back to reality sharply as the Dark Lord leaned over his tiny former student and roughly captured her lips with his own, kissing her deeply..hungrily.   
Severus heard Hermione moan softly.   
Oh yes...Severus supposed, watching him, that the man was almost certainly every inch as skilled a lover in his current form..no doubt capable of driving one mad with pleasure..   
if one could get past that small factor that he looked like a fiend now..  
...He looked like a member of a different species.. 

His master broke away from the savage kiss, leaving his young partner breathless and dazed, reaching for him blindly to pull him back.   
He turned to Severus with mild consternation on his face.. Severus noticed that his vertical pupils were dilated so wide that they were large oval circles. It looked more human than usual.   
Well.. more was relative. His eyes were blood red and shone wetly. The only difference was that they were blood red with round-ish pupils now. 

“Really, Severus.. so superficial? Surely you more than many others would recognise the irrelevance of appearance.” 

Severus bristled and tensed, unaware that he had left his mind so open and expecting swift punishment. A decade of experience told him that ‘crucio’ typically followed that tone when his master used it.

Instead, he was stunned when the Dark Lord waved a wandless hand over his face and his features shimmered, replaced by a very..familiar..face.   
It had haunted his dreams for a decade.   
Merlin.. he looked like..well..like himself.. The sudden urge to move closer was terrible. 

The perfect (if snow white) features shifted into a knowing smirk at his reaction. 

The girl below the suddenly gorgeous man reached up a hand toward his face which he intercepted mid trajectory by the wrist and brought down to the bed, restraining her.   
“A glamour my dear. I will not truly possess this face until Severus completes the project I have given him.. or I come up with an alternate solution.” 

Hermione tilted her head looking up at him. “I...actually don’t mind ..your appearance, Tom. I.. think you look ..like a ..a..god..”   
The Dark Lord looked at her with a greedy expression on his beautiful face.   
“I know.. I heard it in your mind before, my dear.” He leaned down and resumed kissing her bruisingly. 

Severus felt tense watching it.. It was very different when his master looked like that. As rationally as he told himself that nothing had changed..on some level within him he responded in a pavlovian manner to that face.   
He steeled himself against the panic rising up in him. 

The Dark Lord looked back up at him..His eyes were blue..deep dark blue.   
He was younger than Severus now..Not by much.. but it was noticeable. Severus was wandering toward forty.. this man was just past the gate of thirty.

“I..” he started, unsure where he was going. He felt like a young naive again. It was infuriating.   
It was such a small thing, a face.. an appearance. This was the man who hours ago had fed children to a demon. Last week he had had a witch flayed for his amusement after ten or twelve of Severus’.. “brothers” had taken their fill of her.   
He had been an evil bastard when he had worn that face. He’d killed, raped, tortured – there was little difference.   
And Severus had never been in any doubt that the Dark Lord had fucked him..- ok..had extremely thoroughly fucked him- purely out of boredom and petty spite at seeing two of his servants happy together. That was the extent of the man’s interest in him. 

More to the point – if he was not to return to Hogwarts, then his irreplaceable value for his Lord would be gone. He might kill him on a whim if displeased. 

The handsome man sneered at him in dark amusement.   
“Come to me, Severus..” He dragged the cover down off Hermione slowly, exposing her breasts. She blushed and looked up at him uncertainly.   
He tilted his head and looked down at her appraisingly. “She has lovely breasts, does she not? So full..pert with youth. You were looking at them earlier.. and I recall your expression as you bathed her.. Come closer. Taste them..” 

Severus licked his top lip slightly in anticipation, his eyes fixed upon the body slowly being revealed to him.

Hermione lay, nervous but not moving to cover herself, her eyes slid from the Dark Lord above her to Severus face and he swallowed, suddenly blanching.   
“...may I?” he asked her with trepidation. 

She hesitated for a moment and then nodded slightly. He needed no further permission, he moved to kneel over her, feasting his eyes. His hand moved of its own accord to graze down the valley between her breasts lightly.   
Her skin was warm and softer than silk.   
Slowly..slowly, his eyes on Hermione’s, he lowered his head and rapidly flickered the tip of his tongue over her pebbled nipple suggestively.   
She gasped deliciously, her expression somewhere between delighted and scandalised. He dropped lower and sucked the tiny bead between his lips, tracing the contour of her other breast with his fingertips. She squirmed and mewled beautifully. 

He froze, shocked, when he felt a cool fingertip trail down his spine.   
The Dark Lord chuckled darkly and said in a low voice “No. continue your ministrations, my servant. Please her.” 

He pushed away awareness of the sensation of his master’s finger..and..and now his cold hand..moving over the flesh of his back, and suckled tenderly on the nipple in his mouth, fondling Hermione’s other breast. closing his eyes for a second, to enjoy the awareness of who he was being allowed to have his way with.   
He had desired this. He could never have believed that he would have her offered to him by his master.   
He’d rather taken it for granted that the man would kill her.. slowly and painfully...if he ever got his hands on her. Cut her into small pieces and send them to Potter with a big bow.   
And if the man did want anything from a woman, he had never shared before – the others were not even to touch her after he was finished (not that there was really much left to touch by then, inevitably.) 

“Mmm...” he groaned as he felt Hermione’s tiny hand comb through his hair. A moment later she was pulling him up to her mouth and they were kissing with abandon. 

The sudden disappearance of his trousers made him start and he tried to pull away but Hermione was holding his face to hers and her little hot tongue was exploring his mouth. 

He heard again the subdued chuckle of his master but it was irrelevant.. he was wrapping the delicate form into his arms and pulling her close.. devouring her as he hovered over her on his knees.   
Her kiss was maddening..like being inebriated. He could not pull away from her by best will now. Her breasts were rubbing against his chest..he could feel the hard little points against him as she breathed fast and deep and helpless to prevent himself, lowered his body to cover hers.   
The sensation of the hot skin of her thigh against his cock was intolerably arousing. 

He broke the kiss and panted in need. “may I?” he wasn’t sure if he was asking Hermione or his master.   
Probably the latter he realised. Hermione was beyond responding coherently. He wasn’t sure she had even realised he had spoken. Her hands were exploring his chest, tweaking his nipples and scratching lightly.   
There was no immediate response from his master..

He groaned at the attentions of Hermione’s teasing fingers as she pulled him back down so that she could kiss and lick his neck..his jaw.   
It was all it took to push him beyond waiting.. beyond any possibility of a slow seduction. He had to have her. Now! 

Unconsciously he shifted over her, feeling his member sliding inward and up till he was pressed at the apex of her thighs.. the tip of his cock slid just past the lips of her pussy and her searing wetness baptised it.   
He growled in desperate need and then his master’s coldly amused voice made him flinch.

“No. You will not, Severus. You may lick her.” 

He wanted to cry out.. beg.. he was almost tempted to thrust forward despite the denial.   
Gritting his teeth in frustration he raised his pelvis away from the gate to bliss at which he had been knocking.   
He kissed Hermione once more.. deeply.. longingly and then pulled away and paid attention to her neck. By her gripping his hair and writhing, whimpering, he thought he had found a spot she particularly liked and made a mental note of its location.. Two and a half inches below her ear and to the back.   
He wondered if she liked to be bitten on the back of the neck.   
He liked to be bitten there. Lucius could drive him to raving need without even touching the rest of him. 

Gradually he made his way down her body, pausing once again at her breasts. Yes.. she did seem to like having them sucked. When he opened his lips wide and sucked as much of her pert mound into his mouth as he could she moaned loudly and he thought he heard her mumble.. “God.. don’t stop”   
She proved ticklish when he eventually moved on and flickered his tongue down the faint corrugation of her ribs. She protested and tried to push his head away.   
He smirked evily and did it some more until she was breathless and giggling.   
It was a very strange thing. It reminded him of how she had always been giggling and happy around the two morons she had associated with for the last six years. 

The thought distracted him momentarily. He wondered what had happened to convince her to simply walk away from them so extremely.   
Harry crossed his mind suddenly.   
Potter he corrected himself.   
The boy was probably at his wits end. First Hermione taken..and after what he had implied to him, he’d be thinking all manner of terrible things.. and now Severus himself was gone..had not returned.   
Would not return if he had anything to say about it.   
But he did feel a momentary incongruous twang of ..pity.. for the boy. He had..needed ...Severus so much.   
It was with difficulty that he forced his mind away from thoughts about that. 

He had just found another sensitive spot in the hollow of Hermione’s hipbone. She emitted high pitched urgent whimpers and bucked away when he licked there and sucked over the bone.   
Curious suddenly, he turned his head. 

The Dark Lord was sitting, naked, at the end of the bed studying them both with an unreadable expression. His long bleached form was a study in lean flesh and defined muscle. The dark blue eyes caught Severus own and he felt a ripple of desire for the man shiver through him.   
Lowering his eyes, somehow ashamed at his want and at himself (he must be impossibly unappealing now in his more advanced years.), he turned back to the small body below his face.   
So beautiful..   
Hermione’s slender thighs were parted slightly and her pussy was groomed into a small neat triangle on the top of her pubic mound.   
He was glad. Had she been shaved he would have felt even more aware of her age. Barely even legal  
..not that it mattered at this stage, he supposed. 

He leaned down, swallowing his awe and turned his head, ghosting his lips over her thigh. He heard her breath speed up and nudged her thighs wider with his nose and lips.   
She keened slightly as he trailed his tongue slowly up the inside of her thigh.   
He could smell her arousal thick and sweet and his mouth was watering as his eyes roamed over her appreciatively. 

Her pussy, displayed as it was, was dark pink, impossibly perfectly formed and glistening wetly with eager silken juice like some exotic orchid in bloom.   
She was positively dripping for him. 

He was about to dip his tongue into that nectar when a cold steel grip on his shoulder dragged him inexorably back. growling and baring his teeth he rounded on the Dark Lord, frustration blinding his sense of self preservation.   
The man barely blinked – merely flicked a hand dismissively and Severus fell onto his back on the bed beside him as if all the strings had been cut inside his joints. He was unable to so much as turn his head.   
His eyes narrowed hatefully as his master leaned over him, waving a hand to cancel his glamour. The cold serpentine face shimmered back into place, red glittering eyes examining him mirthfully. 

“I had planned to be generous to you Severus..” he said, smirking cruelly   
“And perhaps I may yet be. ...We shall see... However I find now.. that I am not..quite.. that generous. No. I will be the first man ever to taste the girl. I will be her first in all things.   
I am still undecided whether I will be..her only... Perhaps I should allow her to take other lovers.. if only for comparison”   
The Dark Lord smiled nastily   
“I will allow you to watch.. and then.. we shall see in what disposition I find myself” 

A pale cold hand fisted itself in Severus hair and turned his head roughly.   
Hermione’s naked form fell back into his view. She was propped up on her elbows watching them both with a look of mild concern dulled by lust. 

The Dark Lord turned back to her and she jolted slightly at his changed appearance and looked pleased.   
He crawled up her body and allowed her to show her appreciation, kissing him enthusiastically.   
His long elegant fingers roamed over her flesh and Severus watched her shuddering in pleasure.   
It was painful to watch. He could see that it was not merely the Dark Lord’s skill.. Hermione clearly worshipped the evil bastard. 

How was that even possible? 

He felt impotent fury as the pale figure expertly brought the inexperienced little bookworm to the boil with his mouth on her breast and one hand stroking through her folds.   
Just as she tipped over the edge he bit down on her nipple and her body lifted off the mattress arching prettily as she cried out her pleasure.   
It was mouthwatering. He longed to rocket up, push her down roughly with his hand on her throat and slam his cock into her hot little hole. It seemed the little naïf liked it a bit rougher. He could eagerly give her that. 

She was calming again, her reactions settling as she panted, her head thrown back in bliss. The Dark Lord, however, was clearly just getting started. 

Severus licked his lips. She would taste..much stronger now.. the release of her sweetest nectar at climax would be dripping out of her.   
He ...wanted.. so painfully.. to taste her. 

She cried out and bucked when the Dark Lord began to lick her.   
Sensitive. Also delightful, Severus thought moodily. He loved to torture with pleasure.   
The serpentine man feasting between Hermione’s thighs was similarly unconcerned with her pleas that it was too much. Too sensitive. Too soon. Please please please.   
When she actually tried to push him away, the Dark Lord captured her wrists and pressed them down against the mattress by her side, binding them there wandlessly and wordlessly. 

Once again Severus was impressed by the extent of the man’s power. What normally might take a truly powerful and gifted wizard a hundred and fifty years to master, He had no doubt this man had probably already mastered before he left school. 

Hermione was whimpering and bucking, restrained and overwhelmed by pleasure. The Dark Lord pulled away, smirking and commanded her “be still or i will restrain your thighs too.”   
The girl whined fearfully but tried to force herself not to struggle.   
The Dark Lord half closed his eyes in pleasure and returned to the pussy laid out before him invitingly.   
It seemed however that he tasted her and explored her more slowly and gently now. Her whimpers and bucks in sensitivity gradually gave way to whimpers and bucks in growing need. 

“Oh fuck.. oh God.. your tongue.. so..good..oh.. there...oh no.. please.. please – more!.. please!! Please!! More!! Fuck.. oh.. that’s so.. oh..” 

Her pleading did no good. Severus knew the man could drive one to the very edge of madness in desperate need. What surprised him was the degree of enjoyment that the Dark Lord himself visibly appeared to be getting out of teasing the girl mercilessly.   
The expression on his face when he surfaced periodically from between her thighs, his face slick with her dew.. he looked almost rapturous.   
He inserted a slender digit into her slick channel and there was a sudden increase in fervour and desperation in her cries and moans. It was quite apparent that he was holding her at the very brink of her pleasure.. drawing it out..taking her to the edge and then moving away.   
She struggled at the binding charms on her wrists ineffectually. “Please!! Please Tom.. please.. oh.. I need it.. need you. More.. oh God.. my Lord.. PLEASE!!..”   
He ignored her and slipped another finger in. 

It looked to Severus to be a rather tight fit and he felt his cock throb urgently, demanding to be placed inside that sheath at the earliest possible opportunity. 

Hermione struggled urgently now, trying to get him to put his tongue where she so desperately wanted it. He was taking long slow licks up her folds as he pumped his fingers into her languidly, bringing her back from the edge once more.   
Severus heard a low hum of pleasure and his Master half turned and looked at him. “She tastes like honey, Severus. I have encountered none sweeter.” 

Severus groaned deeply and flung his mind wide open.. begging desperately. ‘Please my Lord.. I want to taste her.. Please let me taste her’ 

The Dark Lord turned back and reapplied his mouth to the slick pink folds before him, causing Hermione to again begin to keen and beg. This time however he appeased her, drawing her up slowly to the edge and then bringing her over it, screaming and tossing her head, her entire body contracting and extending as if in the thrall of the cruciatus. 

Severus moaned along with her at seeing it, his cock painful, begging to be touched, relieved in some way. 

The Dark Lord continued to suck and lick at her, slowly twisting his fingers within her body, until she had become boneless and flinched and jerked at his mouth. Only then did he pull away with satisfaction, withdrawing his fingers from her carefully.   
She spasmed at the sensation even so, shuddering. Severus heard her mumble something incoherently. 

The Dark Lord smirked down at her, his head tilted, and then moved to kneel beside Severus.   
With the same dark smile, he offered his fingers and Severus, beyond lust at this point, eagerly took them into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them and sucking them deeper, his eyes closed in bliss.   
Dimly he registered his masters faint hiss of pleasure but it was irrelevant.   
He was right.. Hermione was sweet.. the taste of her climax on the slim elegant fingers was like cream honey. Ambrosia.   
If he could move, he would bury his face between her legs and damn her twitching and sensitivity. It was heavenly. 

He still could not move to jerk away when he felt the mouth upon his cock but it startled him greatly and his heart juddered and beat faster.   
It was not as hot as it should have been but it felt amazing.. slick.. tight.. and he was so very needy already.   
His eyes flew open in shocked realisation to see the serpentine form bending over his groin. 

The Dark Lord was sucking him. 

He groaned even as his eyes fell closed once again..undone by the talented mouth.   
Soon enough he found himself begging helplessly, just as Hermione had begged helplessly, as his master played him like an instrument. And then.. there was another mouth upon him.. he felt a tongue slide over his balls and it was only a pinched hand at the base of his cock that stopped him from coming immediately.   
He growled his lust loudly. “Oh Merlin... please.. please my Lord.. finish me.. I cannot... Master!!” 

He felt whatever spell the Dark Lord had placed upon his body released and he could move again. 

“Behave, Severus..” he was told, the mouth withdrawn from his cock. 

The Dark Lord moved up and knelt by his head. “Open your mouth, my servant” he said low.   
Severus ached.. he had not been allowed to come and he needed ..so badly.. Perhaps if he was satisfying enough he might be rewarded. He turned onto his side quickly and reached for the long white shaft, guiding it into his mouth at once.   
Pulling out every trick and talent he had learned over the many years with Lucius he worshipped at the altar to the best of his ability.   
Clearly he was performing adequately, he thought hopefully, hearing the panting groans and feeling the Dark Lord thrusting into his throat.

“So much...better.. than.. you were..” the Dark Lord bit out between hisses of pleasure. 

Severus, darkly gratified at the affect he was having, redoubled his efforts, forcing the large cock into his throat to the very root. He heard his master hiss something in parseltongue.. it sounded like an expletive of sorts. “Hermione..” his voice choked out then.   
He apparently didn’t need to continue the command. Severus groaned deeply around the cock in his mouth as he felt lips surround the head of his own cock and then he was thrusting shallowly into a mouth that was burning hot, wet and tight.   
His mind felt off kilter..he needed so badly to thrust deeply into that hot tunnel surrounding him, but he didn’t want to hurt her or render her averse to pleasing him orally again in the future..   
In response to his need he applied himself still more voraciously to the cock in his gullet.   
He felt a hand fist in his hair and it felt good to be dragged forcefully up and down the slick shaft. He moaned around his master’s cock, registering dimly the memory of how good this appendage had felt..elsewhere.. in his body. 

His mind called up the time the Dark Lord had fucked him while showing him vivid realistic images of the torture of James Potter and rape of Lilly.   
He hadn’t wanted her harmed but the sensation of that massive cock in his ass and the anguished terrified look on his enemy and his beloved’s face had been irresistible.   
When in the vision James’ throat had been cut even as he watched Lilly orgasm against her will around the cocks of her current tormentors, Severus had come so hard he’d actually passed out. 

“Yessss...” the man above him hissed. “I.. remember.. Ssseverusss” and then, as if the memory was particularly arousing for him too, the Dark Lord thrust once more, forcing himself all the way into his throat and coming hard.   
The force of the strangely cool, bitter, fluid exploding deep into his throat choked him. The Dark Lord was so large and so deep that he could not swallow.   
Severus struggled, being held implacably in place by his master’s hands as he spasmed and rode out the last waves of his pleasure.   
He heard a low, satisfied groan above him even as tears were forced from his eyes at the painful panic-provoking sensation of the bitter sharp liquid sliding acidly down toward his lungs. 

Finally he was released and pulled back coughing and choking, gasping for air.   
Hermione was looking at him with worried concern, he registered dimly. 

“Do not upset yourself, my dear. Severus enjoys being employed in precisely that manner” the Dark Lord said belittlingly as he drew her to him. 

Severus blinked the water from his eyes, recovering.   
His master looked energised. He had never required the recovery from climax that Severus himself needed. Lucius was the same. The man could finish shatteringly and then drag Severus head back down for more.   
What the Dark Lord had said was insulting, objectively seen.. objectively seen it was also true. He loved it when his partner dragged him around by the hair, forced him down and used him.. he liked a little pain.. he loved a little degradation.. it made it all the sweeter.   
Had he been closer to coming himself, the horrible feeling of choking and being unable to escape might have pushed him over the edge himself.. but at that stage it was merely painful and panic inspiring. 

He rolled onto his back, throwing an arm over his face and calming his breathing. 

His Master was kissing Hermione again. The insanity of the current situation struck him once again forcefully.   
It was impossible. The way he looked at her.. it was more than possessive. It was.. almost doting. And he had not hurt her..nor even spoken curtly with her. 

After a few minutes of lying in that manner musing and feeling old and extraneous to requirements , he was roused by a gentle kiss on the centre of his chest.   
He raised his arm and peered under it warily. 

Hermione’s large brown eyes looked back at him unwaveringly.   
“He’s gone..” she said softly.   
“He said I could stay and...play... with you.. if I liked.” 

Severus lifted his entire arm away, instantly becoming alert. He felt his cock harden as if on command.   
“Did he now?” he responded interestedly. “and was he specific in how you might like to ...play..?” 

Hermione shook her head and then crawled up to straddle him. This was most promising. He slid his hands up the warm thighs either side of his pelvis. His cock was trapped between their bodies. 

“Professor..” 

He looked up from perusing her breasts almost guiltily.   
“Hermione?” he queried. 

She was blushing and looked embarrassed. 

“Um.. I’ve only...done it.. once before. So...well.. I don’t really know-...” 

The information was like a lightning flash in his brain. The girl was very nearly virginal if that was so. Sweet Merlin!.. She would not know anything right now perhaps.. would not know any of the tricks and skills of the women he tended to employ when he felt the urge for something female around him, but her untutored pussy would be as tight as a fist and.. better still.. the little know it all learned extraordinarily quickly.   
He was certain he could train her to his particular tastes with little trouble.   
She would be perfect when he had shown her what he desired – he had no doubt. She performed extraordinarily in every area. This would be no different. 

He rolled, flipping them both abruptly, placing her below him. She gasped, wide eyed.   
Gazing down at her heatedly he inquired in his silkiest tones “Would you like me to ..teach.. you.. Miss Granger?” 

He saw her pupils dilate and she swallowed, her breath quickening. Her voice when she responded was light and breathy “yes..” 

He raised an eyebrow and was almost undone with amusement when she corrected herself “Yes Sir”   
He smirked knowingly.   
The girl called the Dark Lord by the name that would have him hanging by his entrails from the castle wall if he thought it in the man’s presence, yet she addressed him as Sir.   
It was unreasonably gratifying. 

“Very well then” he said, leaning down and capturing her lips roughly. He was going to enjoy this.


	12. Chapter 12

The Dark Lord was sitting, irritated, on his throne in the great hall. After such an unusually satisfying morning it annoyed him more than usual to have to deal with the incompetence of his servants. 

The muggle man huddling on his knees terrified out of his wits was entirely incorrect.   
Galant – Artemis Galant to be precise since the man had two brothers also in his service, was on his knees begging for forgiveness for his error.

“He was in the right place. He looked...the same.. as the picture you gave me my Lord.. forgive my error.. I’ll go and retrieve the right man at once. Er.. are there many who look just like him there?!.” 

The Dark Lord shot him an ‘oh-be-silent!’ look.   
He turned once again to the small Japanese fellow looking up at him every so often and muttering ‘ghost.. evil spirit..am i having a nightmare?’ in Japanese under his breath. 

He had been quite interested in languages during school. Japan had had some very interesting ancient magic that he had wanted to learn more about and the translated versions were extremely watered down. He had wanted to know why and so had taught himself the language over a few weeks. It was quite logical and it had a pleasing sound.   
When used to insult it had almost a tangible cudgel effect. A pity that he did not actually know any Japanese to berate in it.   
Still – soon he would, it seemed. He looked forward to it. 

Addressing the lab-coated man in Japanese he said “you there. You are not Miramoto. Who are you? What do you do?” 

The man emitted a sound not unlike Aieee and fell backward in his urge to get further away from him. 

“Answer!” he demanded, enjoying the bark of the word. 

The man seemed to pull himself together and looked around the large dark marbled hall, obviously looking for exits. Spotting the great doors at the end of the hall he seemed to be considering running.

The Dark Lord sneered at him.   
“Fool. You do not know where you are.. and you would not reach the door if you tried. Observe.”   
He lifted his wand and pointed it at Galant. He did not need to utter the word – the man fell screaming and writhing to the ground. He held the crucio on him for perhaps ten seconds only. He did not want to have to deal with his incapacitation and the cruciatus was rather more for the muggle’s benefit than Galant’s instruction at present. 

Tilting his head questioningly he moved his wand to point it at the Japanese man. “I will not ask again” he warned. 

The man nodded, his eyes like dinnerplates. “Kenzai Takiuchi. I am a chemist with Kobe labs”

The Dark Lord frowned. Perhaps chemists would be necessary. If they were at the lab where the cloning research was underway, it was probably so. He had simply sought to acquire the man who had been reported on in the web article he had found. He was working on cloning mice and had had some success.   
He looked at the man appraisingly. “Are you involved with the cloning work?” 

There was hesitation and then a nod. 

“Excellent. Consider yourself recruited. I am carrying out some...privately funded.. research in that area. ...Extremely ambitious and cross disciplinary. You will assist me to determine who or what is needed to achieve this end.” 

The man looked beside himself.   
“If I help you with such a list, will you let me go? I have a family!” 

He smiled coldly. “I may release you after the project is complete, Mr Takiuchi. It is therefore in your own interests to name the most qualified experts in the field for me. The less capable you all are together, the longer it will be before you see your family again.   
If you are truly incompetent.. you may not survive to see them again.” 

Takiuchi balked and, somehow accepting this logic, nodded. “What is the project?” he asked resigned.

The Dark Lord smirked.

“You are going to develop a means of cloning a human being from genetic information stored in blood or semen.” 

The man at his feet gaped, horrified. “It cannot be done!..those sources are no good! This is an impossible task!” 

The Dark Lord sniffed. “It will be done, I assure you. The budget for the task is unlimited. You may have whatever you require to work with. And I will have one or two of my own researchers working with you. you will likely find that many aspects of the process can be assisted or obviated with magic.” 

The man looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or be sick.   
“Magic?!” 

Pointing his wand once again at the once-again kneeling Galant, who gasped and shook in anticipation of further punishment, he levitated the man from the floor and lifted him effortlessly above the muggle scientist, turning him in the air with small flicks.   
“Magic” he said quietly.   
“Shall I turn him into a rabbit for you?” 

Galant whimpered as he rolled slowly in the air. The muggle man looked bemused.   
“That is astounding.. what else can you do?! Yes! Turn him into a rabbit!” 

Snorting, amused, the Dark Lord transfigured Galant in mid air. A white rabbit now turned slowly, its blue eyes wild. He lowered it gently to hover in front of the muggle. 

“I could separate him into different component elements if I pleased, but I rather think that Galant would prefer I refrained from that demonstration.” 

“How does it work?!” the muggle asked. 

The Dark Lord considered the metaphysical ramifications of the question before finally answering. “I can tell you how it is done.. not that it would help you. You lack the ..genes?.. to do it. The question of how magic works would take a lifetime to answer.   
We are not looking for that answer today. Your only concern is what you need to achieve and how it might be accomplished. Magic may simplify some aspects for you.   
Now.. let us start with names... When I have a small team assembled we will begin on equipment and resources you will all require.” 

He summoned a quicknotes quill and parchment. If the muggle was surprised at the arcane writing implement, he did not show it but merely nodded and started rattling off names and designations.   
The Dark Lord could perceive his thoughts had shifted quite dramatically. He was still terrified but now he was also intrigued. He would have the chance to work with unlimited resources and no restraints upon a very challenging problem.. and he would get to learn about something he had not even known existed. 

He had told the muggle that he would not be able to use magic but the thoughts in his mind showed that the man believed he was simply trying to dissuade him from trying to take control of the rod like weapon in his hand that enabled him to do impossible things with matter. He was theorising that it operated on the basis of gravitational energy and possibly some kind of telepathic interface.   
The man believed him to be an alien, it seemed.   
He was wondering whether he was in a spaceship. It was quite entertaining to watch the tight analytical little mind spin. 

Absently he directed the floating Galant, who really made a rather fine white rabbit, to the side and transfigured him back to his regular form. He wiggled his nose, looking sheepish about doing so. 

Takiuchi was winding down in his list. The Dark Lord questioned him curiously – “Are those the best names in the world? Language and location are irrelevant, Mr. Takiuchi.” 

The man started and looked wonderingly at him. The Dark Lord continued. “You will all understand one another perfectly. I assure you. And political rivalries will not be relevant here.” 

The muggle nodded again, more slowly and this time he took a long time to think before he rattled off another fifteen or twenty names.   
Most of what he was saying made little sense to the Dark Lord.. ...something ‘polymerase’. He simply nodded on principle. 

After a while he summoned several more of his permanently available servants and tasked them with several names each and the warning to be certain they had the right muggle before daring to bother him. Then he instructed Takiuchi to explain exactly what his role in the whole..process..was and was frustrated to listen to the suddenly animated man rattle off complex explanations full of words that he seemed to assume meant something to his listener.   
They did not. Especially not in Japanese.   
Perhaps he might have understood some of them in english.

Instructing him to start over and to explain it as if he were explaining it to someone from another planet, he found the man quite capable of getting his message across.   
Yes.. the strange little muggle might be marginally tolerable to have here for a while, he decided. He was unlike most muggles he had had the misfortune to deal with.   
All that screaming and carrying on.. and their minds were so vapid and empty for the most part.

 

 

When the Dark Lord returned to his quarters hours later, Hermione was curled up in one of the chairs reading from the book he had left her. She was almost finished.   
Once again he mourned the loss of three of his most treasured books and cursed Dumbledore. He should blame himself for giving them to her, he supposed.. but it was more satisfying to despise Dumbledore. 

“Where is Severus?” he asked, amused when she jolted. She had been so absorbed in the book she hadn’t heard him enter, clearly. 

“Oh!!” She had her hand on her chest, breathing rapidly. “You gave me a fright. Sorry. Um.. he said he had to go and get some things. I think he went to Hogwarts!! I.. he said not to worry.   
I couldn’t do anything, Tom! I have no wand.. and no way of contacting you. ” 

The Dark Lord’s brow creased. “Damn him. I instructed him not to return to Hogwarts.” 

Hermione closed the book in front of her uneasily, biting her lip.   
The Dark Lord fumed. A small particle of concern for the man he had known for the better part of fifteen years flared in him. “When was this?” he demanded. 

“Um.. a ..few hours ago I think. I read about a page and a half a minute and I’m almost finished with the book..” she said, looking miserable. 

He cursed. He thought to summon Severus but the man knew he was expected and once the call had been sent, it would merely place him in pain until met.   
Until he knew his servants state, he would hold off. It might distract him and worsen the situation.   
Instead he walked to Hermione and drew her up from the chair, seating himself in it and pulling her back down onto his lap.   
The chair was warm.. she was warm. It was very pleasant. He always felt cold these days. It was this form – his blood was not warm as it should be. He wrapped his arms around the handful of warm schoolgirl in his lap. 

“What were you doing?” she asked him curiously. 

He sighed   
“You may disapprove if I tell you, Hermione, and I have no patience for that at present. Tell me what you have learned so far.” 

Hermione raised her eyebrows.   
It wasn’t certain she’d disapprove.. and anyway.. saying that would only make her wonder now.. she’d be imagining the most fantastic horrid things for the rest of the day. 

“Kerbel believes that magic is not present ambiently, but is a function of the witch or witches body – like some kind of conversion. Like..photosynthesis. He goes on for quite a while about what it is not related to.. like diet or sunlight or water or heat and then when he can’t find anything to point out that we’re converting to create magic, he postulates a totally new form of energy or substance that we are using which is there but simply hasn’t been measured yet.” 

Hermione’s face showed her disgust. The Dark Lord smirked.   
“I take it you do not approve his thesis?” 

She snorted. “Well its redundant isn’t it? There’s this substance.. this energy.. out there that we’re using to create magic. You might as well say – there’s this magic out there that we’re using to create spells - since raw magic and focused magic are different anyway. ...The man’s an idiot.” 

The Dark Lord hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps. Was that all Kerbel had to say?” 

Hermione strained.. had there been something else.. some kernel of value in the whole book. She said finally, uncertainly.. “He seemed to think that this energy.. or whatever it was.. was vibrating at a certain frequency and that there might be other frequencies of it which are similar but which we can’t use because of the frequency we’re vibrating at or something. It was a bit fluffy around that point. He may have suggested that demons and house elves were using something like magic but operating on different frequencies.” 

The Dark Lord nodded. Those were the two basic messages in the rather thick and tedious book he had given her to read. He could have simply told her that in under thirty seconds but he was curious whether she would become frustrated and read something else from his library instead. He’d placed a charm upon the dangerous books to prevent them being removed. 

“And this is equally frivolous in your opinion?” he enquired. 

Hermione frowned.   
His placid expression was suggesting to her that it might not be, but her logic was insisting that the man had lacked any kind of proof for his suggestions. He had postulated theories without any shred of concrete reasoning. She bit her lip. “Isn’t it?” she asked finally. 

The Dark Lord’s contourless face snorted, amused. “You do not have an opinion, Hermione? Would it make any difference if I told you that Hannes Kerbel was a man who dabbled, unwisely as it turns out, in demonology. He based many of the ideas in this, his last work, upon information given to him by an entity he referred to in an earlier book as Kandleth.   
He cites little proof because he did not come by the concept through a process of deductive reasoning, although you see as he experiments with denying test subjects access to various substances and energy forms that he does make some effort to establish whether there is any base to the information.   
At the end of his experiments, although he has come no further to proving anything, he has thought about the matter in much greater detail.   
You are correct – the distinction between ‘a form of energy unknown which is converted into magic’ and ‘magic’ is rather arbitrary. The book poses the question, whether there are other forms of magic fundamentally distinct from that which is utilized by witches and wizards and theorises about what this implies for the nature of magic itself.. and indeed the nature of the reality we exist in.” 

Hermione frowned. “And is it true? Are there different kinds of magic?” 

The Dark Lord snorted, wildly amused now. “Of course not. It’s a load of old codswallop. House elves use the same magic as wizards – it was proven by Renquis in the seventies – and demons don’t use magic at all. Not even ‘demonic magic at the nth frequency.’   
Kerbel was deceived by the demon and in the end it consumed his soul when he was uncareful with his preparations - But the book did give me some very useful ideas when I was younger.” 

Hermione scowled at him.   
“You had me read a completely pointless book for four hours?! I was trying really hard to find something redeemable in that book – I thought if you recommended it then it must be of value.   
Aaarrgh. I could have been learning something meaningful today!!” 

He smirked at her, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You are quite precious, my dear. I find myself paradoxically entertained when you attempt to scold me. I feel I should protect you from viewing my punishment of others, else you might give up such a daring practice.”   
She turned her face up to his uncertainly, an edge of fear wavering there.   
“As I was saying – the book was thought provoking to me when I was younger and my musing on the topic bore fruit in the form of several spells which I shall teach you...   
I wondered if you might be similarly philosophically stimulated by the tome and therefore laid it out for you. There was nothing physically preventing you from selecting another book if this one displeased you so. I recall you did so last time without worrying about specific permission..” 

The bright eager look she had taken on when he said he would teach her spells faded into guilty avoidance of his eyes.   
“I only took a book last time because I was finished with the one you had set me.. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I didn’t take one today because.. I wasn’t finished.. and if you tell me to do something, there’s probably a reason for it.” 

Ah.. like balm-her words, he thought to himself. So many of his servants thought they knew better..questioned his commands and obeyed out of fear or greed. Hermione truly thought that his thought processes were reliable even if not understood by her. 

“Did I chastise you when you took the book without asking last time?” he questioned softly.   
She shook her head.   
“I will set a selection of books out for you from now on. You may choose which you feel like reading. If I do not permit you to do something, Hermione – I assure you, you will know it.   
Now.. to the spells. There are three that I will share with you. I use the term intentionally. These are spells that I created as a student. They are not known to any beside myself. Should you ever use them, you will do so only silently. If you cannot master that – you are not permitted to use them. Is that understood?” 

Hermione agreed eagerly looking like Christmas had suddenly been announced a month early and she’d received the world wrapped with a big shiny bow.   
He prodded her to rise and followed her to his feet.   
“I will have to see about acquiring you a wand..” he muttered, although secretly he found he rather enjoyed the thought of her using his.   
It was perverse. A wizard never voluntarily relinquished his wand to another. But seeing her little hand wrapped around it.. seeing the power that she had pulled through it last time.. it was a thrill that somehow was even more heady than the thrill of having that hand wrapped around his..other.. wand. 

He stepped close behind her once again, lifting his wand in front of her so that she would see the wandform from the correct perspective.   
His hand curled and twisted and circumscribed several circles. It was quite a complex wandform.   
She bit her lip and hesitantly requested “Again please. I’m not sure I remembered every part.”   
He performed it with wide emphasised precision twice more. 

“Obviously it is not a hex for duelling” he pointed out. “but useful nonetheless on occasion. I was working on the basis that if there were some form of ambient energy that had a frequency, blocking off all frequencies close to that which the ..subject..” he amended from ‘victim’ which had been the first word to occur to him “was naturally operating on would prevent them using magic. It worked out somewhat..differently.. than I had expected, however.“

Hermione turned her head to look over her shoulder at him. “What does it do?” she asked with a look of morbid fascination. “I take it that it’s something unpleasant.”

He thought about it. Unpleasant was relative.   
“It is not painful.. it merely places the recipient slightly out of phase with our reality. Would you like to experience it? It will not harm you.” \

Hermione hesitated.   
He turned his face toward hers and sniffed at her hair absently. His sense of smell was different in this body. The chamomile scent of her hair now was vastly inferior to the piquant sweetness of her first visit with him.   
“Last time you were here, your hair smelled of apples.” he observed idly. 

She turned slightly. “I have no idea what you washed my hair with. I usually use a muggle shampoo and conditioner. They have a wide range of different scents. You should see our bathroom in the dorm – I had to put up another shelf in the shower for all my products. You know.. having hair this unruly and offensive is hard work.”

He sighed.   
“Make a list. I will have them placed in the bathroom for you even if I must enlarge the space to accommodate them.” She smiled brightly.   
“Now.. if you do not wish to experience the hex you may show me the duplicated wandform, if you please” 

She eagerly took the wand from him when he offered it and he saw the dark little thrill of excitement flash across her face.   
Dipping lightly into the surface of her mind he heard various excited exaltant cries   
‘I get to use the Dark Lord’s wand.. ME!!   
This is Lord Voldemort’s wand.. and he gave it to ME to use..   
Not only is the most powerful wizard in the world teaching me.. not only is he sleeping with me.. but I am allowed to actually read his books.. USE HIS WAND!!..  
Ohgodohgodohgod.. this is better than..anything.. well.. no.. ok maybe it’s not better than when he kisses me.. or or.. what he did this morning.. ohmygod that was unbelievable.   
Severus was enjoyable.. I liked what he did..what we did.. but it wasn’t anything like Him..There’s nothing like him. I can’t believe he actually wants me. It’s insane.. I’m..so ..” 

He tuned back out, pleased. It seemed she enjoyed this even more than he.   
Nevertheless he would have to get her a wand. It was impractical to do otherwise. 

He nodded as she performed the intricate wandform almost perfectly.   
“That is acceptable. You must not accentuate the third twirl so and the entire thing must be understated.. like so” he took her hand and performed the wandwork as it should be performed in actual use.   
After leading her through it twice he removed his hand and she performed it flawlessly. 

“The incantation is as follows..” he pointed her hand with the wand at Kerbel’s book on the table and slid his hand up to pinch the wood between his fingers over her hand.   
“Io umkringa til enn” he incanted with a lilt at the end.   
The book disappeared. 

Hermione blinked. “Can I touch it?” she asked curiously. 

“Try” he suggested. 

She did so. Her hand passed through where the book should have been.   
“It’s gone?! Where did it go? Is it vanished? Banished? What happened to it?!” 

He smirked. “Will you try the hex? I have told you that it will not harm you.. You may understand rather more if you do.” 

She frowned and then relented   
“Ok then. If you say so.”   
She stepped away a few paces and turned back looking at him with trepidation. 

He concentrated his focus and cast the spell. She flicked immediately out of being. After a minute or so he flicked his wand and cast a finite incantantum. Hermione flicked back into being and immediately started to hyperventilate in panic.   
He stepped to her and enfolded her in his arms, surprised.   
“Now.. there.. what is it?.. You are not afraid of the dark, surely!” 

She looked up at him with wild panicked eyes. “Where was I?! It was like.. with the demon.. there was just.. darkness..and silence and I couldn’t move but I could still think clearly. God – it was horrible.”

He nodded slowly, understanding her panic and reproving himself for not having considered that she might react so.   
“You appeared to me as the book did, Hermione. Neither visible, nor tangible..   
When I developed the spell and realised what it did to those upon which it was cast, initially I thought perhaps it might be useful as a substitute to invisibility potions.. but as you realised yourself, you cannot see or hear the world around you and cannot interact with any physical object. You are simply held in stasis.. for as long as the caster chooses to hold you.   
And.. should anything happen to them – you would be permanently stranded there.. No one would ever know you stood there just slightly out of phase with the world.   
You would not age.. you did not need to breathe, would never require sustenance of any form.. you would simply be there. Perpetually conscious.. forever.” 

“Imagine if you stood in the back of a derelict classroom in the Hogwarts dungeons sealed off lower levels. It could be decades of perfect unbroken stillness before a single human being might intrude upon the space and even if they did – they would never know you were there.”

She gaped in horror. “Oh god.. did you do that to someone? Leave them there? ...like..like that..” 

He tilted his head sardonically. “If I said I had, you would try to find a way to return to Hogwarts in order to scour the dungeons lower levels from top to bottom casting finites over every inch, wouldn’t you?!   
You claimed to want to learn the dark arts, Hermione.. They do not.. generally.. tend to be friendly fluffy spells. Perhaps you are rethinking your desire?” 

He saw the girl jolt in panic. “NO!! No!! I’m not! Please Tom! I want to learn it. Thank you for sharing the spell with me!! I was just..it was so horrible in that state.. after yesterday.. but it has nothing to do with anything. Please don’t stop!” 

Taking pity on her he kissed her forehead, flicked a finite at the invisible book and pressed the wand into her hand.   
“Show me the hex, Hermione.” 

She turned quickly and, eager to please, cast the spell on the book. It vanished as it was supposed to and she called it back with a finite.   
He praised her and commanded her to do it silently. It took her three tries before she succeeded but she was able to do it four times in a row after she had.   
He smiled in approval. 

The next two spells he taught her proceeded without any drama or moral quibbles, although they were, to his mind, equally nasty.   
The alhamena ezabatea curse suppressed the victim’s ability to exert their will independently. They would never be able to disobey a direct order given to them by anyone. It could not be removed with a finite – but required a countercurse, for obvious reason. While the hex was impossible for the victim to dispel and unlikely to be dispelled by others, no witch or wizard could possibly miss the fact that they were compelled to obey all the time. The countercurse was actually more complex than the curse itself.   
He explained to Hermione that with this curse too he had been seeking a way to block the use of magic. But the meaning of the word in basque had not been quite right, obviously. 

He did not mention that he had eventually discovered a curse that did work to block magic. He would never..ever.. reveal that curse to another witch or wizard. It was far too dangerous if used against him.   
Instead he taught her another failed version - “Bind Tol Varazslat” it bound the victim with magical ropes that tightened unstoppably if magic was applied to try to release them, crushing the life out of whoever was within and eventually cutting them into slices.   
It looked exactly like the incarcerous.   
To release the curse, a counterspell had to be applied directly with wand contact on the skin of a part of the person not covered in ropes.

When Hermione had crushed the life out of a couch cushion he was satisfied. He ordered them both tea and sat down with her to drink and reflect.   
It was into that contented mutual peace that Severus apparated fifteen minutes later, looking somewhat worse for wear. 

He fell to his knees immediately, anticipation of punishment radiating off him like a stink. 

The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes at him coldly. “Ah Severus.. I wondered where you might be. What have you being doing all day?”   
He watched the potions master hesitate for a microsecond, the lie almost certainly sliding up in his mind and then he responded with the truth.   
“I returned to Hogwarts to retrieve some things. There were potions ingredients that are exceedingly difficult to come by and which belonged to me personally. I was not willing to donate my books to the Hogwarts restricted section either, my Lord.” 

The Dark Lord scowled. He could understand the logic but it was irrelevant.   
“Did I or did I not order you this morning not to return there, Severus?” 

The man ducked lower “You did, my Lord. I..disobeyed. I am sorry. I could not allow my things to be lost and I thought that at this early stage, they would be untouched.” 

Scoffing at this, the Dark Lord sneered back “And were they? Just why do you appear to have been dragged through a hedge backwards?” 

Severus glanced up at them both with weary eyes. “Albus had cast some kind of charm upon my bookshelf. As soon as the final book was removed it sealed my quarters. He came for me and tried to bind me. I was unable to defeat him magically – I barely managed to ward off his attacks. If it had not been for Miss Granger’s liquid imperius potion I think I would not have made it out.” 

At this the girl herself leapt up, jubilant “I was going to do the same thing!! When I was trapped.. you know – before he wanted the necklace off. He offered me a potions lab – I thought I could brew Gren and Gables and make him let me out.. I’m so glad that it worked!!   
You know.. Professor Dumbledore is the perfect example of why dark potions can sometimes be used for a good purpose. .. Are you ok, Severus?” 

The Dark Lord tapped his finger on the armrest of the sofa in irritation. His servant responded to the chit, as if this were an acceptable thing to do.   
“No.. I’m damn well not. I had to leave my basilisk scales there!! They resist shrinking charms, obviously. In light of ..events.. I did not wish to risk further problems by staying around to retrieve them from the, probably equally warded, potions storeroom. I abandoned them there.”   
He looked truly sorrowful. The Dark Lord had no patience for this. It was one thing to allow Severus the liberties he had been granted this morning, but quite another to lose his fear and obedience.   
From what he could see – the man had promptly gone from his bed to disobeying a direct order.   
He was livid.   
Not only was this entirely unacceptable – he had done it in front of Hermione – undermining his power and demonstrating for her that she too could rebel if she chose. He would have to be hard on his servant and Hermione would have to be present. She must learn that this kind of behaviour would not be tolerated.

“I am..exceedingly ..displeased with you..Severus.” he said icily.   
“Hermione.. come here” 

She looked wary and thrown off balance but obeyed, stopping in front of him and kneeling. He allowed her a small smile of approval.   
“Show me that you are capable of following my direction. Use the cruciatus upon him. Punish him for me.” He appraised her conflicted reaction. 

“I..I’m not sure i can..” she said very softly. “I..don’t hate him..”

Stroking a hand down her face he responded. “You do not need to hate him, merely to desire him to feel pain. Do you imagine I hate each of my servants when I punish them.   
Well... actually – to be fair I hate many of them.. but it is not hate that drives the cruciatus, Hermione, it is desire.   
You may desire his pain for many reasons. Bellatrix desires it for her own pleasure. That need not be the case. Some of my finest interrogators desire the pain of their victim because it is expedient to retrieving the answers they seek.   
You will desire his pain because he has directly disobeyed me after I showed him such generosity this morning.. and you will desire his pain because it will please me if you succeed.   
You do...wish..to please me.. do you not?” he asked with a small dark smile. 

Hermione swallowed and nodded slowly. 

“Very good. Off you go then.   
Keep in mind.. Lucius had done nothing wrong when you used it upon him. Severus truly deserves to be punished right now.   
Look at him! Even he knows it. He came here quite expecting it.” 

The man in question looked from Hermione back to him with confusion writ large on his face. 

When Hermione took the wand offered to her, Severus looked absolutely horrified. His wide eyes kept staring at the pale twisted wand in the soft little hand.   
The Dark Lord wondered what he was thinking. Clearly, to judge by his expression, it would be something along the lines of expletives, exclamation marks and variations on ‘It cant be’, ‘I am not seeing this’, ‘impossible!’ 

Hermione took up stance a couple of metres in front of him. Lord Voldemort scrutinized her posture. She looked nervous but determined.   
He was pleased already. She would succeed. He already knew it from the air about her. 

She did not disappoint. A few seconds later she threw the curse and held it upon the gasping twitching Severus.   
He wanted to kiss her when she twisted her wrist just so and her face took on a focused strained expression. 

Severus whined. That was a rather large concession from the man.   
He saw the set of Hermione’s shoulders change and could almost feel her leaning her energy into the curse as if pushing against a weight.   
The potions master emitted a high pitched keening wail and rolled, stretching and extending himself unnaturally and then cramping the next second.   
He did not beg.. he was not that far yet. But he was quite far. How wonderful. The girl was so much better at this than Bella and it was only her second attempt. Beautiful! 

When Severus started to sob and whimper continuously, he spoke quietly “Enough.” 

Hermione required a second or two to recognise he had spoken and disengage herself. He did not begrudge it. When she broke the curse Severus continued weeping softly in pain. 

“You performed wonderfully, Hermione. I am very pleased. Show me.. the second curse you learned today. Make him stand” 

Severus, near incoherent as he was, registered the threat of further pain and began to beg.   
Hermione hesitated but cast the curse silently. When nothing appeared to happen to him Severus sobbed in relief.   
Then Hermione told him to stand up and he screamed in agony as he found himself forcing his body up off the floor, tendons and muscles protesting.   
He stood, swaying, his face a picture of misery. 

“Dance a jig” the Dark Lord commanded. 

The man delivered a surprisingly nimble performance although the shrieks and wails rather detracted.   
Hermione looked bothered by the suffering on display before her. He decided to refrain from further corporal punishment for the moment. 

“Severus.. Your decision to act so foolishly after my kindness toward you of late, disappoints me.. no.. it infuriates me! If you had come to me and explained your desires.. your irrational need for whatever emotional little trinket drew you back to Hogwarts so desperately.. I would have ensured that it was procured somehow and brought here. your books are no argument – nothing you possess is not already present here in Malfoy’s, Lestrange’s or my own libraries.   
And as for your ingredients.. That basilisk was my pet and companion for seven years. Do you imagine I did not amass a sizeable collection of scales? He shed every three months!   
Moreover - there were two basilisks when I first arrived at Hogwarts. The female died following the laying of her egg. Yes.. I have basilisk eggshell.. and a very extensive range of other basilisk themed ingredients – Why do you think that a second carcass was not found in the chamber?! I was exceedingly thorough!   
Had you come to me with your concern.. you would have been informed of this.” 

Severus looked incensed even through his agony.

“What happened to the baby?” Hermione asked suddenly, concern on her face.   
He shook his head thinking disparaging thoughts about females and babies of all dispositions. 

“I cut it into pieces and packed them in ice.. What do you think?!   
It lives sealed in a vast underground cavern system I sought for it. It was a male unfortunately.” 

Hermione looked both relieved and sorrowful. “It will never see another of its own kind.. it’ll be completely alone for hundreds of years.” she murmured. 

“Yes” he said dully. “But I cannot pull basilisks from my sleeves unfortunately. Should I have killed it? Would that have been the..merciful.. thing to do?   
If I had left it at Hogwarts it would be dead now. As is Ssacharshi – its father.   
He was rather philosophical.. even for reptiles – they tend to be cynical and observant but he was above and beyond.. the most wise creature I have known. An engaging debator. Generous.. loyal.. pragmatic.   
He gave me permission to utilize Rasssarcha’s remains. I am certain that he gave his life willingly, seeking to save mine.”   
He broke off, suddenly aware of how he had let himself expose his private thoughts before his servant and.. and whatever Hermione was. His apprentice, he reminded himself. 

The confounded chit was looking at him with shining eyes. 

“Have you ever visited him?” she asked softly.

He snarled at her “No. Show me one of the other curses I taught you.” 

She nodded shortly and turned back to the pained potions master. He was shaking with the effort to remain standing.   
At least Hermione was intelligent enough to recognise when she should not push further, he noted as Severus promptly was covered in ropes.   
He fell heavily to the ground. He would be quite alright provided magic was not used upon him. From the expression on his face the tight bindings actually provided some relief to his sore muscles.

“Good. Now ..come to me. We will find you a wand.” 

Her face turned to him startled and a little hurt. He could see she did not want to stop using his wand with him as they had been doing.   
If she had her own wand..things would be different.. even the manner in which he taught her spells.   
He hardened his heart. He was being foolish about the girl. She was a vulnerability. What if she broke it somehow?! He would be wandless. He was extremely attached to that wand! 

Besides.. look at what a sot she was making him into. He had allowed Severus to escape very nearly unscathed purely in order to avoid ..upsetting.. her.   
This was unacceptable. 

And he would have to find a room for her.   
He would meet her for lessons and when he felt like having her.. but the rest of the time she could stay out of his quarters. He would not allow this...decay.. to continue. 

Hermione had reached him and offered his wand back wordlessly, looking down.   
“Did I do something wrong” she whispered tightly, looking down dejectedly. 

He took the wand and her hand and disapparated them both without answering. 

 

 

They reappeared in a dark room. Hermione’s hand tightened around his own. It seemed she was somewhat uneasy about darkness now, despite what she had said. 

He forced the softness out of his mind.   
She would have a wand soon. She could cast lumos to her little heart’s content without him. 

Igniting the torches, he exposed the room to them both. It was rather small but it was full of tall cabinets with very shallow wide drawers.. almost trays.   
These were all the illegal and unregistered wands he had acquired from various legitimate and black market sources over time. 

Releasing her he told her which cabinet to begin at. He knew that within were all the less usual cores. There were even a couple of phoenix feather core wands within somewhere, he was certain. Not from the same bird as his, obviously, but similar, provided the wood was a decent enough conductor for the girl. 

He moved away and leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the room.   
Being in proximity while a witch tried to find the right wand could be a hazardous endeavour.   
Hermione promptly proved why when wand after wand hissed and spat and reacted unpleasantly in her hand. A greater number, notably those with some product of unicorns or fay, did not react at all and refused to cast the smallest of spells.   
She was getting frustrated, already down to the third drawer. 

She found one that managed to sustain a lumos.. but it was a fairly weak glow. Grimacing she placed it on the top of the cabinet even so and continued looking. Another reacted slightly better a few minutes later and she added it to the other on top of the cabinet.   
By the time she had finished she had a selection of seven wands. He strolled over to inspect them. One of the last ones had seemed perfectly decent.   
It appeared she had, the labels to judge by, a preference for elder and oak wood. two of the seven wands were elder, four oak and the final wand was vine. 

She looked somewhat perturbed by the results of her search.   
“What is in the other cabinets?” she asked uncertainly.

“That one is all dragon heartstring” he indicated vaguely. The other two are respectively hippogriff and runespoor.” 

Hermione stuck out her chin – “My last wand had a dragon heartstring.. I should try those!” 

He waved her off to the other cabinet uncaring, inspecting the wands that had selected her.   
The first, the one that had barely responded was vine with dragon heartstring. He had observed her expression of shock and almost.. betrayal.. when she had read the components of the wand. It had taken only a moments delving into her thoughts to learn that her last wand had had this pairing of elements.   
Still.. one’s magical energy changed over time. A familiar wand became bonded to a wizard or witch. It would continue to perform adequately because it was familiar – when in actuality a new wand might perform better.   
It was very difficult for a wizard to give up a wand he had used for many years. There was something of.. loyalty.. to it. It was irrational.. 

He looked to the other wands Hermione had selected. Elder and Oak. Strong wands. Used in both light and dark magic.   
The oak was generally a wand of strength, stability, endurance, intelligence. The elder was typically associated with power but it was very rare to find wands made of this wood – it was considered sacred, traditionally. Wars had been fought centuries ago over its misuse.   
The two wands here looked extremely old. He wondered vaguely who had died and left them.. not that it mattered really. 

The cores.. well.. It was clear that had Hermione not sought his tutelage out, she would have almost certainly pursued the dark arts some other way. The first oak wand he inspected held a phoenix feather. The name of the phoenix was listed but he did not recognise it. The other oak – the second wand that Hermione had found that responded to her, held runespoor fang.   
He mused on whether he should direct her from the passionate dragons to the venomous runespoor section.   
It was far and above the most common wandcore of those in his service, being primarily suited to the dark arts. 

The other two oak wands were similarly dark. Thestral hair and vampire fang.   
He weighed them in his hands. These were powerful wands.. expensive too, he noted. Vampire fang had been banned as a wandcore for over a century and vampires tended to react violently to wizards with such wands.   
He surreptitiously replaced that wand back in the cabinet. There was no call to go courting trouble with the girl.   
After a moment he placed the dragon heartstring wand back also. 

Lifting the first elder wand he very nearly tossed it away also. Sphinx claw. Those were temperamental beasts. They would turn on wizards if they behaved foolishly. It was a wandcore of the academic.. a popular wandcore for Ravenclaws.   
Reluctantly he placed it with the oak wands. If she chose that, it would be a shame. They weren’t particularly suited to dark work. 

The final wand, as he lifted it, pulsed in his hand strongly. It felt very good.. He checked it and nearly dropped it. Chimaera scale.. These were virtually impossible to find – and in an Elder setting?!   
It was a beautiful object too.. carved with intricate curlicues and vines, thirteen inches, the handle worn and warm.   
Experimentally he swished it and cast a lumos. The wand glowed incandescently, lighting up the room. His eyes widened at it.   
A lovely thing.. so responsive.. so aesthetically pleasing. 

Hermione walked back over to him. “That one likes you..” she said with only the faintest hint of envy. The wand responded more strongly to him than it had to her.   
“It does appear that way” he replied neutrally.   
Without really thinking about it he found himself slipping the new wand into his robe pocket. It liked him. 

“I take it that the dragon heartstrings did not like you” he snorted at her.   
She frowned. “No. not much. What happened to the other wands I left here?! There remained only four on the cabinet. The three oak with phoenix, runespoor and thestral and the elder with sphinx claw.   
His hand itched to put the sphinx claw wand back in the cabinet too.. and the runespoor too while he was at it – it was a common core. She was superior to Mulciber. 

She reached for the phoenix feather and swished it a bit. It looked too long for her – a wizards wand, certainly. A large wizard’s wand.   
She cast a lumos. It was adequate. Nothing tremendous like the reaction his own wand had shown her. Sufficient but underwhelming.   
It would perhaps perform better if she could try more challenging spells. 

Frowning he covered his hand in his sleeve and scooped up all four wands, grabbing Hermione lightly by the upper arm and disapparating them back to his quarters. 

Severus lay dozing and jolted awake when they cracked in.   
“What did you end up with” he slurred curiously. 

“We haven’t gotten that far yet” the Dark Lord responded absently, releasing Hermione and placing the wands down on the coffee table. 

“Can I release him?” Hermione asked softly. 

He responded curtly in the negative, extinguishing the fire. “Ignore him or I shall cast finite on his bindings.”   
Severus seemed confused at this threat. 

He handed Hermione the phoenix feather wand – “light the fire, my dear.” 

She did.   
The fire lit.   
That was about all that could be said for it.   
It was at least a ..well behaved.. underwhelming wand.

He frowned and took it off her, offering her the runespoor wand, hoping it would be worse. 

It was. The fire barely lit.   
Runespoor was dark but not particularly powerful. It seemed Hermione required a more energetic core. 

With trepidation he watched her try the sphinx claw. It was better than the phoenix feather. He cursed internally wondering if he should go back and get the vampire tooth wand.   
That at least would be well suited to dark arts work.   
Despairing, he watched her swish the wand, looking at it thoughtfully. It was disasterously pretty, as wand’s went. Pale and lemony with a carved spiral running up it like a unicorn’s horn.   
She could not possibly select that wand. He snatched it out of her hand irritatedly and replaced it with the thestral hair wand.   
Thestral hair made no differentiation between light and dark magic. It would be quite suitable. Certainly the most suitable of the wands she had ended up with. 

Hermione hefted it and examined it thoughtfully.   
He wondered if it had pulsed for her.. hoping it had.   
He was disappointed. Her thoughts were along the lines of how heavy it felt and how strange that was when it was a good three inches shorter than the phoenix feather wand and made of the same wood. 

She swiped and flicked it. It made a faint hiss in the air.   
Shrugging speculatively she pointed it at the fire and cast the charm. 

The fire lit with about as much flare as the sphinx wand. It was difficult to distinguish between the two perfectly adequate effects. He could see her eye return to the prettier sphinx wand. The thestral cored oak wand was rather plain. Unembellished and apparently ‘heavy’. 

This was an entirely unsatisfactory outcome. 

Irritated he offered her his wand once again and gestured for her to light the fire with it. The effect was once again spectacular.   
He growled internally and stalked over, extracting the twisted bone like yew wand out of her hot little hand.   
It was his.. she could not have it.   
He cast his own fireball at the hearth. It was large and orange red. Larger than hers, but he was quite used to that degree of power. Expected it.   
Reluctantly he removed the attractive chimaera wand out of his pocket and pushed it into her hands. 

The fireball that eventuated was as large as his had been. This wand liked her too. It cast more powerfully for her than his own wand.   
Almost uneager for the knowledge he plucked it back from her and used it to cast upon the fireplace. The resultant fireball was incandescent white and melted away half of the stones in the lintel.   
His own wand in one hand and the new wand in his other he tilted his head back in irritation. He wanted to keep both. They were both extremely good wands.   
What did it matter what kind of wand the chit used. She was here to learn. The theory was the same even if her wand was weak. 

He slipped a wand in each of his robe pockets, not noticing how the chimaera wand had automatically been placed in the pocket that normally housed his own twelve inches of yew. 

Hermione watched both wands disappear with what seemed to be resignation. 

“The sphinx and the thestral – you will keep them both. We shall find you something more appropriate in time perhaps.” 

She nodded and pocketed them both. 

He looked at her robe critically, for the first time. It was one of his. Severus must have transfigured it for her.   
“You have no clothing here” he observed. “One more thing to deal with.”

He groaned inwardly. He did have other things to do besides fuss around with the girl all day.   
Severus was conspicuously silent. He turned to the man who had adopted as contrite and pitiful a posture as was possible in the ropes.

“Severus..” he said slowly. 

“Yes master?” the potions master acknowledged meekly. 

“Stop that. You are fooling no one. You will take Hermione and procure clothing.. and hair products” he added remembering his dissatisfaction earlier. “remain in muggle London and do not let her out of your sight. If you disobey me again I will have Lucius deal to Draco in the black room!”   
Severus eyes widened gratifyingly.   
“Yes. Without hesitation. Do not doubt it, Severus” he assured the man.   
He stalked over and pressed his wand.. his new wand.. to Severus forehead, casting the countercharm to the hexed ropes. They fell away and the potionsmaster stretched his limbs gingerly.   
He was visibly still in pain. 

Thoughtfully he commanded the man “feel no more pain!” 

Severus blinked, stunned. He climbed to his feet cautiously and tested his limbs.   
The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow “You will only cause yourself more permanent damage if you continue that. Your body is still hurt, you are merely no longer feeling it. Be aware of that. Do not feel compelled to obey orders from anyone but Lord Voldemort, Severus” 

The man nodded cautiously. 

Hermione stood looking like someone had avada’d her puppy.   
He could hear her thinking.. she was intentionally broadcasting at him.. “What did I do? You’re angry with me. I’m sorry. Whatever it was.. I didn’t mean to. I’ll be better.” 

He ignored it and waved Severus to go and..deal with her. 

When they were gone he moved to his desk and sat.   
After a few minutes he retrieved his new wand and repaired the hearth where he had melted it.   
It was very quiet. Peaceful. He could finally get something done. No doubt later on he would have more muggle scientists to review.   
He hadn’t been bothered by Harry since the dream he’d invaded. Considering Severus was here, it was strange that he could not feel the twerp.. he’d had some twinges of anxiety and horror a couple of days ago but now.. nothing. He mused on the issue. Had the order assigned someone else to shield the boy? Was Dumbledore doing it himself?   
The answer struck him only minutes later as he was slowly sipping a green tea. The necklace. The damn girl had lost it when he’d retrieved her from Dumbledores prison. 

He cursed.   
He would not be able to sense Harry at all if he was wearing that stone.. he felt nothing at all.. Dumbledore must have placed it on a different chain. 

Bastard. Confounded infuriating bastard. 

He’d lost a strategic advantage with the boy and it was because of that chit again. He had not been thinking clearly since she turned up before him. Damn it all to the deepest pit of Hades. 

He transfigured two pieces of parchment into glass vials and extracted a memory into each. One was his own memory of Severus memory of Hermione in the black room.   
Thankfully he had viewed it via legilimency, else it would be noticeably blurry.   
The second was a brief section of Severus sucking his cock with obvious gusto this morning, complete with choking and panic and tears. Let the boy make of that what he would.   
He sealed the vials and charmed them only to open for Harry Potter. 

He sat then... looking at them both.. wondering whether this was the correct approach.   
It was ..satisfying.. certainly.. but it was really somewhat counterproductive. The boy already hated him. Sending him these memories would only push his conviction further.   
Really, what he needed to do was undermine it.. and he had everything he needed to do that here. 

He transfigured several more vials and extracted a very different set of memories. Himself giving Severus the wand oath that he had not abducted Hermione.. Severus learning that his memory had been tampered with and himself giving him another wand oath proving it. And then the next three he had surreptitiously watched in the girl as she was remembering the events to tell himself and Severus in bed.   
He placed Dumbledore informing her that he intended to fake her abduction, Dumbledore inflicting pain on her and demanding her to take off the necklace and finally Hermione sobbing in mortal fear inside a blue shrinking bubble.   
After some thought he added a short segment of himself carrying her naked clinging body into his rooms with Severus trailing behind and her request to wash being granted as he veered toward the bathroom.   
He cut it off there. Let the boy imagine propriety as he would. Satisfied now he sealed and charmed the vials and then summoned Draco.


	13. Chapter 13

Potter! Psst Potter! 

Harry turned. Draco Malfoy was trying to get his attention in herbology. Ron turned and gave him a death glare. 

He felt something tug at his trouser bottom and jerked upright. The thing was moving up the side of his pants leg.   
It felt like a finger.   
He almost jumped up and looked under the long desk he and Ron shared. The sensation had reached his knee and was moving up the top of his thigh.   
He peered down surreptitiously. 

A little white enchanted snake of parchment was crawling up his thigh. 

He snatched it up as subtly as he could and it unfurled in his hand. Slipping it up and between his seedbed and his body, he could read it.   
It said “You want to know the truth about what happened to Granger?, meet me after class. ROR. Dumbledore finds us – you’ll never know.”   
When his eyes reached the full stop of the last sentence the note suddenly combusted silently with a sharp blue flash and was gone.   
That was a neat trick. He thought he’d have to find out how that was done – it would be really useful.   
He snuck another look back at Malfoy. The creep shot him a serious challenging look. Ron was nudging him asking what was wrong. He shook his head absently. 

The ferret knew what had happened to Hermione. He’d always known the prick was a death eater like his father.   
He should go to Dumbledore and expose him.. but he worried if it was true. Did Malfoy know what was happening to Hermione?   
Snape hadn’t come back yet as far as he knew. He was going to go down there after class to check. But even if he was here (and Harry hoped he was) – Snape wouldn’t tell him what had happened to Hermione. Dumbledore clearly wouldn’t either since if Snape knew anything, Dumbledore probably did. The headmaster didn’t miss much.   
If he didn’t go meet Draco, he might never find out what was going on with the girl he loved. 

Class dragged on. It was endless and pointless and mind numbing. Repotting stupid little seedlings. Neville was going daft about it and gushing over some amazing property of the seedlings or the other. Harry gave him an encouraging smile which was entirely surface. He hadn’t even heard what he’d said. He didn’t care in the slightest.   
He was almost floating out of his seat toward the imminent bell of last class.   
Finally – it redeemed him and he packed his things up at record speed and whizzed out of the room, ignoring Ron’s shout of indignant protest. 

He didn’t even know how he got up to the room of requirement but he was suddenly standing before the door thinking I need wherever Malfoy wants to take me in here today. Over and over.   
As soon as the door appeared he was in like a shot. 

The room was extremely basic. It held a black comfortable chair and a portable pensieve.   
Harry swallowed. Malfoy wasn’t going to just tell him about whatever had happened, apparently.   
He felt his stomach turn over. He wasn’t sure he could see Hermione being hurt. Snape had looked bloody ill at the memories he had. Wouldn’t even be pressed on what they were.   
If Malfoy brought him here to show him Mione’s death... or.. or.. 

He jumped up guiltily as the door behind him opened. 

A blond head peered in shiftily and seeing only him, shrugged itself through the gap nimbly. 

“Potter.” Malfoy acknowledged. 

“Ferret.” He shot back, staring the blond prat down. 

“Potter. I’m offended! I take it you don’t want to know what I’m here to show you?” he turned and made as if to leave.   
He did so very slowly.   
Harry felt suspicion creep over him. 

“You’re here at his orders aren’t you, Malfoy.   
You really did it. You’re one of them! You can’t leave because he told you to show me something and if you don’t you’ll be in deep shit! Isn’t that right?!” 

The familiar face he’d hated for six years turned and fixed him with an glare of loathing.   
“I was asked by my father.. to give you something from the Dark Lord. Yeah.   
So in a sense – yeah I’m doing this on his orders. My father will be pissed off with me if I don’t do this.   
Well fucking done. You called my bluff – now take it!”   
He withdrew from his pocket an object and restored it to its correct size. It was a box wrapped in silver paper with an emerald green bow.   
Harry almost drew back from it. There was going to be something horrible in there. He could feel it. 

Draco took two furious steps toward him and shoved the package in his hands. “Hurry up. The old goat could come in and stop us at any second. Open it. I have no idea what’s in it. He just said to tell you it was the ‘truth’.” 

Harry nodded blearily, wide eyed, his fingers already tugging at the bow.   
The package unwrapped itself in his hands upon the first tug and he was left looking at a series of little vials with silvery snot in the bottom. 

“Memories Potter – you know how to use a pensieve, I hope?!” 

Harry ignored him completely. The vials were labelled with numbers. He pulled out number 1 – rolling it in his fingers thoughtfully. Moments later, in the same daze that he’d pulled himself up here in – he watched himself tip the silvery memory into the pensieve and dip in a finger, falling away into the depths immediately. 

 

He jumped.   
Voldemort. Half a metre away from him.   
Snape was on his knees before him and they were pressing their wands together. He heard the oath with astonishment and the resulting non snapping of his enemy’s wand.   
It had to be a trick. 

He was tossed out of the memory almost immediately. He frowned, baffled. That had been very short!   
Impatiently he wrenched open 2 and dove in. 

Hermione!! Sitting in the headmaster’s office. When was this and why would Voldemort force her to give it to him?!   
He drew closer, noticing that Mione looked pretty tense. She was sitting up straight. She refused tea and seemed uncomfortable.   
He hovered beside her wanting to touch her just as he heard the headmaster say behind him that he wanted to have her abducted by Voldemort.   
The words were like an axe to his gut. He could not help but turn to his mentor in disbelief.   
The same look was mirrored on Hermione’s face.   
He listened with increasing horror and then, with Mione white in shock, he watched Professor Dumbledore grab Hermione’s wrist and apparate them both away. 

He was tossed out of the memory at that point. He clutched his stomach and groaned. He was going to be sick.   
Professor Dumbledore wouldn’t do that.. it was a trick!   
It was all lies to make him feel exactly what he was feeling – utter dejected loss of confidence in everything around him. 

“What was it?” Malfoy demanded.   
“No.. forget i asked. Hurry up. You might not have time to see them all if you faff about like this.!” 

Harry nodded blindly and scrabbled for the third vial, tossing it in and falling in after it.   
He fell to his knees in the memory as soon as he saw what was happening. A sinister Dumbledore was looming over Hermione, on her back on the floor..screaming.. She was clenched in a tight foetal position as if she was being tortured. The headmaster was holding his wand on her and demanding she take off the necklace and she was just screaming.   
He would take whatever curse he was using off her and ask her again and then do whatever he was doing again when she didn’t comply.   
It was..beyond horrible.   
It had to be Voldemort. The memory had to be doctored. Dumbledore wouldn’t DO this!! 

The memory ended and the next one was already in his hands going into the dish.   
Now Hermione was in the same room, on the floor crying helplessly and looking terrified. A blue bubble around her was getting smaller and she looked up at it fearfully as she reached for the clasp of her necklace. He saw her take it off and then she looked up.   
The room was getting dark and Dumbledore’s face appeared in an ornate gold mirror.   
The memory ended with the crack of apparition and the growing darkness around her. She looked like she was scared to death. 

He held the last two vials in hands that wouldn’t stop shaking.   
Peripherally he was aware of Malfoy’s fascinated perusal of his state. 

Hermione could die in one of these next two. She seemed pretty damn scared in the last one and it took quite a bit to faze her.   
Numb, he flicked the cap off both memories and dumped them in, taking a breath and plunging in after.   
He sighed in relief when Hermione wasn’t immediately visible in the memory. 

It was Snape and Voldemort again. They were talking and Voldemort was getting angry. Then Snape was suddenly suspended from invisible ropes and Voldemort was demanding to know what memory he was talking about.   
The response didn’t mean a lot to Harry but it sounded ominous. The black room.   
Horrible things must go on in the black room.   
And then Voldemort was calming down even thought he still looked furious and he dropped Snape to the ground and said “Severus.. You are unlikely to believe me when I tell you this.. but whatever you remember.. did not happen. I do not have Hermione. I certainly didn’t have her tortured in any way yesterday. I sent you to find out whether the order had her. I can only assume that they do.. judging by what you now hold to be reality.” 

Harry wondered at the level of preparation this whole sequence of memories might have taken to fake.   
Were they created from nothing – imagination? Was that even possible? 

Voldemort went on “I have been looking for the girl since Draco informed me she had disappeared.   
The dementors have not seen her at Azkaban, I have spent most of the day interrogating ministry stooges and aurors, none of whom had any idea what I was talking about.. I spoke with you the day before yesterday.. Severus.. I made a wand oath to you.”   
He lifted his wand and summoned a portable pensieve, drawing out a silvery filament of memory from his forehead and flicking it into the basin.

Harry watched the hope and confusion on Snapes face when he came back from the memory and then Voldemort made another wand oath to him about Hermione. 

The memory faded and shifted soon after that.   
Voldemort was standing in a dim room in a circle. Snape was a couple of metres behind him looking shaken and Hermione..   
Hermione was naked on the floor at Voldemort’s feet, clinging to his knees and burying her face in his robes.   
At that moment the reptilian arse bent and picked her up like a tired child and wrapped her around him, holding her carefully.   
Fuck.. holding her tenderly.   
Mione wrapped her arms around the evil monster and he carried her out of the room with Snape following. 

The scene flicked and Harry realised that they must have apparated. They were in Voldemort’s chambers again.   
He hadn’t put her down but he was standing looking unsure about something.   
Hermione opened exhausted eyes and looked up at Voldemort curiously and then closed her eyes again. She looked like she’d run a marathon. Voldemort turned his creepy face toward Mione and inspected her state solicitously.   
Then he sighed!   
Sighed! Looking displeased.   
He spoke to Snape softly, as if not to disturb the naked seemingly dozing exhausted seventeen year old in his arms

“Severus...I must rest. Hermione will come with me. You...may join us... or you may rest in my study. ...you may also return to Hogwarts if you desire.. I will not force you to remain.” 

Snape stepped closer and seemed to be inspecting Hermione’s face with concern. He brushed the back of a finger down her cheek and responded “I..would like to join you..my Lord... if I may. I will return to Hogwarts only if you ask it of me”   
Then Voldemort sighed and muttered “I hope I shall not have to” and walked through an archway in the wall into..a bedroom. 

Harry felt sick.   
More than sick. He was going to watch his enemy rape her now. Exhausted as she was.   
Why was she so tired?! What had been happening in that black room when she’d been clinging to the bastards legs as if he were a rock in the ocean.   
Harry was confused. Something was missing here.   
How did she get from the place where she was terrified in the shrinking blue bubble to the place where she was clinging to Voldemort for comfort. 

It was insane. 

The other place.. Dumbledore had apparently tortured her there.. if it was him at all. Harry was drawn back to the two figures in the room.   
Hermione raised her head again from the black robed shoulder and struggled weakly –saying she wanted to wash and then in response, Voldemort turned and carried her into the bathroom, running her a bath.   
He sat, still holding her, on the edge of the tub and stroked her hair soothingly.   
It was otherworldly. This couldn’t possibly be real. Whoever had constructed these memories had to be some kind of artist of horror. A wizarding Stephen king. 

The memory ended with Voldemort still rocking Mione gently on his lap and stroking her hair. 

Harry sat.. feeling like he’d been struck by lightning or hit by a bus. What was he supposed to do now?   
If it was false – what had really happened to Mione?!   
If it was true – how the hell was he supposed to go on as if nothing had happened?! And if he didn’t – where could he go?!   
If Dumbledore had done all that then the Order couldn’t be trusted! And for all that he’d seen – there was nothing to suggest that Voldemort wouldn’t kill him as soon as look at him. 

What the fuck was he supposed to do with this knowledge if it was true?! 

Draco broke into his internal worries with a spat ‘Potter!’ and his eyes wandered to the spoilt angular face.   
“What did you see?” he demanded.   
Harry only shook his head in confusion. “I.. I dont know” he said truthfully.

“Did Voldemort take Hermione when she disappeared?” he asked, knowing he wouldn’t trust anything the boy said anyway.

Draco frowned. “Why would I know?!” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “He mentioned you in the memory”   
The blonde immediately bristled defensively. He couldn’t know how much Harry had seen. 

“I don’t know” he bit out finally. “He just told me to listen for anything related to her” 

Harry nodded not really sure if that meant anything either way.   
Draco looked pissed off.   
“Well if you’re not going to tell me what you saw.. I’m off. If you tell Dumbledore about this... “ he petered out.   
Suddenly thinking of something, he continued.   
“If you tell Dumbledore then I’ll never be able to get you any more little packages like that one. Whatever it is that’s got your knickers in a twist – you’ll never find out more. So just.. keep your big mouth shut.. clear?” 

Harry looked at him unhappily. “Yeah. Alright. But.. take a message to him from me Malfoy.” 

Draco raised disbelieving eyebrows. 

“Tell him to send me a memory from today. From now. Please.” 

Draco nodded curtly, a sneer distorting his features. He didn’t look that bad when he didn’t wear that expression, Harry mused.   
A moment later he was gone. 

Harry sat there for a long time thinking about what to do next. He had nowhere to go. Was he supposed to give up on destroying Voldemort over this?!   
There was no way he could do that. And Dumbledore was his best hope of finding the horcruxs and destroying them.   
After a long time he drew all the memories into vials and slipped them into his pocket. He took off quickly, moving at a fast walk, headed for the one place in the school he knew that Dumbledore couldn’t enter that he could. 

 

 

Severus groaned, leaning back on the seat in the outer chamber of the dressing rooms. He had been amused by this game of fashion show for the first couple of hours but it seemed like Hermione could really shop when she wanted to – to the death in fact.   
They were in perhaps the seventh store now and she had vanished into the changing room with two armfuls of clothes. 

Occasionally, when she wasn’t sure, she would come out and ask him for an opinion.   
He thought she looked awful in any orange or pink shade and she wasn’t daring enough with the cuts. She could afford to show more leg..lower the neckline more.. He was going to transfigure all of these garments when they got back to make them more revealing.   
Was she going to run about in nothing but muggle clothing from now on?! He was sure the Dark Lord would love that. 

As the door opened for the hundredth time and the rather melancholic girl emerged wearing a black halter top dress that hugged her figure and fell to mid thigh, he felt she was finally getting to the more interesting clothing.   
“Yes. We’ll have that. Go and take it off” he said quickly.   
She hung about, looking upset. 

Oh damn. No.. he recognised the signs from young charges in Slytherin. She was on the bloody brink of bursting into tears.   
He pulled himself carefully to his feet, mindful of the Dark Lord’s warning and shoved her into the changing room, following her in.   
It looked like half the store was in here. there were three piles on the bench. 

Hermione looked up at him and her bottom lip wobbled. 

Fuck.   
He cursed soundly internally and before she could let the first bleated exclamation of whatever was upsetting her fall, pulled her to his lips roughly and kissed her like there was no tomorrow.   
After only a few seconds he felt her arms wrap around him and then it seemed like she was trying to climb him like a tree. 

Wary but pleased he turned and lowered himself to sit on the clothing laden bench. She climbed into his lap immediately and he felt her hands fumbling at his trouser fly. He was not fully hard yet but he was definitely getting there with the way she was thrusting her tongue against his and rubbing herself on him. 

He slid the black dress up her thighs and over her ass with both hands, his eyes closed, feeling nothing but the warm desperate hunger of her mouth. Seconds later she was sinking herself down onto him.   
She wasn’t really wet enough but she seemed to need him inside her so badly that she wriggled and forced herself over him anyway.   
He moaned. He liked the feeling of a dry pussy almost as much as a wet one..the slightly burning friction.. The hiss of pain of the woman..on occasion. He thrust hard up into her and she emitted exactly that startled wince. 

He started up a fast hard rhythm. Pulling her hips up and down over him, fucking her like a toy.   
She got wet soon enough and then she started to whimper softly, nipping at his jaw and rotating her hips like he had showed her. 

‘Good girl’ he thought.   
She clenched inside and he gave her full marks for retaining knowledge. 

He allowed her to control her movement a bit more and slipped a hand up, pulling the halter up over her head with one hand and dragging it down to expose her breasts.   
They bounced attractively as she rode him, panting. He gripped one and squeezed it like he was trying to juice it.   
She yelped and moaned and thrust herself down onto him harder.   
Yes.. she did like a bit of pain.   
He was pleased. He abandoned her hips entirely and used both hands to pinch her nipples hard, lifting and pulling them upward. It looked like she was suspended from them as she struggled and bucked on him, her head tossed back panting.   
“God.. more!..” she whined needily.   
He increased the pressure, thinking of how much he’d like to actually string her up by those luscious breasts.. hang weights on the delicate pink nipples.   
He’d have to be cautious. His master would almost certainly not like it if he ruined her. But there were so many terrible wonderful things he wanted to do to her. 

He drew his wand and transfigured the plastic coathanger on the bench next to him into a dildo gag with strap.   
“Open” he demanded, placing the black shaft at her lips, causing her to open her eyes and look at him again.   
She froze for a second upon him and he bucked slightly to force her to move again.   
She did, gyrating her hips slowly, looking excited and opened her mouth to accept the thick long shaft into her gullet.

“Good girl” he praised her and forced it in roughly, fucking her mouth with it for a moment before he wrapped the strap around and fastened it. 

She looked absolutely delicious with her mouth stretched wide into an O around the dildo. Her faint whimper of pleasure was muffled beautifully.   
He smiled.   
“Silence suits you” he said coldly amused and put his hands on her hips, moving her, as he leaned down and mauled her breasts with his teeth.   
She moaned and the sound of it was like music. He crushed her tits with his hands and bit down upon one nipple after the other hard enough to change her moan to a yelp of pain and pleading.   
Better..   
He fucked up into her, feeling her bounce upon him. With his teeth fastened hard around her right nipple he returned his hands to her hips and spreading her wide, forced her violently down upon him over and over until she screamed through the dildo gag, coming apart around him.   
He followed as soon as he felt her fluttering and drove himself into her, releasing deep inside her.   
It was the most satisfying fuck he’d had in.. he couldn’t remember. Well.. this morning obviously.. but before that.. he couldn’t think of another experience that matched fucking the shit out of the know it all in a slutty little dress in the changing room of some muggle store..  
...hurting her..debasing her.. knowing she was loving it. 

He let his head fall back against the wall behind him, relaxing now and panting. 

Hermione looked a sight. Her lips were full and pink around the black shaft of the gag and her breasts looked like she had been attacked by an animal of some kind.   
He decided to leave them like that.   
She was straddled over him with her arms still around his neck, looking at him with an expression of relief and ..peace.   
He could sympathise. Oftentimes he had sought Lucius out to thoroughly fuck and degrade him simply so that he could let go of some horrible incident he had had to face earlier that night. 

She squirmed on him and he felt his soft cock slide out of her wetly. Grimacing he used his wand to clean them both up. 

“Better?” he asked, he breath slowly returning to normal.   
She nodded and he vanished the gag, watching with amusement as she worked her jaw and licked her lips. She looked a bit embarrassed. He took that as his cue to depart. 

“Pack up what you want. I’ve just about had enough of this expedition. Surely you possess enough clothing now?!”   
He knew that her pockets were full of tiny little bags. 

She nodded slowly. “Yes. I do. I guess I was just using it as retail therapy. If you’d done...that.. an hour ago we probably would have been done earlier.” 

He smirked.   
“I’ll keep that in mind for the future” 

They were out of the store in five minutes.

 

 

It had been a tedious day for the Dark Lord – although not unproductive. Harry Potter was duly unsettled and had actually dared to demand another ..gift...   
He was not sure yet whether he would acquiesce. He needed to think about the ramifications of allowing the foolish little twit to know any more about the present condition of the girl he desired..nay.. loved – as ridiculous as the word was for a seventeen year old who undoubtedly barely knew the witch – (considering he had no inkling of her interests and proclivities). 

He had just finished reviewing the seven muggle scientists he had acquired over the course of the day and night. It was getting on for four am now and he apparated, tired, directly into his bedroom.   
Finding it dark was no surprise.   
He undressed magically and glided over to the bed, slipping under the covers. 

The bed was cold. 

Reaching a hand out he discovered that it was also completely empty.   
He lit the torches at once.   
He had not heard from Severus when they had returned. Was it possible something had occurred while they were out and he had not been aware?! 

Damn it. That girl was more trouble than she was worth. 

He summoned Severus immediately, suppressing the niggling kernel of concern in favour of anger.   
A bare minute later his servant apparated at the foot of his bed wearing a black robe. He looked alert but his hair, laid flat on one side, showed that he had been asleep until very recently.   
He had a dark purplish love bite on the V of chest exposed by the robe.   
The Dark Lord found this infuriated him even more. 

Severus, taking in his expression, dropped to his knees. This was not a personal call, clearly. “My Lord?” he queried politely. 

Lord Voldemort demanded icily “Where is she?!” 

His servants eyes flicked up at him and back down. He watched the man’s adam’s apple bob uneasily.   
“My Lord.. you said earlier that you wished a set of quarters found for ..Miss Granger. She is sleeping in the empty quarters on the third floor.   
Is this not what you desired? I...believed you would be displeased to return and find her in your rooms.” 

The Dark Lord forced himself not to grit his teeth in irritation.   
Yes. He had said that. And objectively seen.. yes. It was better that the distracting little thing be elsewhere. But it grated against him even so, he found.   
It was gratifying to have her warm body there at his pleasure. 

“And where have you been sleeping tonight, my servant?” he asked in a dangerously soft voice. 

Severus hesitated for long seconds. Finally he said tonelessly. “She expressed the wish that I remain. Apparently she is afraid to be alone in the dark at present for some reason. I was under the impression that I was to do as she asked. She told me this morning that you had allowed her to ‘play’..with me..however she pleased.”   
The slight grimace on the austere man’s face was noticeable. 

The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes.   
“I am retracting that permission. You will not touch her again. Return to your own quarters Severus. You will not seek her out unless I instruct you to do so.   
Your.. liberties..with my patience are at an end.”   
The sudden pained expression that flooded the dark eyes enraged the Dark Lord still more. 

“Master.. please..I..did not realise..your wish to have her here. I thought only to do as you asked after my foolish error this morning. I remained because she has been..upset..much of the day..She..very nearly wept in the middle of a muggle store today. She was..distressed again when I brought her back and showed her the rooms that were to be hers..   
I thought it best not to leave her in a state. I did not know you wanted her here. Please, my Lord..” 

The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes still further, his magic swirling around him angrily. “Perhaps you did not hear me, Severus. I ordered you to return to your quarters.. not mount a case.   
Leave.   
Now.   
Before I continue the punishment you so rightly deserved this morning.” 

The potions master did not hesitate a moment longer but disapparated with a crack. In the still wake of his departure the Dark Lord fumed, rising and summoning his own robe. Moments later he disapparated also. 

The room he appeared in was only vaguely familiar to him. He had visited this room once when the ambassador of the German Ministry of Magic had clandestinely visited his domain.   
A dull man.   
He was forced to ignite the torches to a low red burn to make out the contours of the furniture..

A frightened voice whispered from the other side of the room. “Severus? Is that you?” 

He raised the level of the torches somewhat higher until there was a gasp and then the naked girl leapt out of bed and pelted over to him, stopping short just in front of him as if uncertain.   
Her face was agonised. Half relieved and hopeful, half afraid. 

“..My Lord.” She whispered, lowering her eyes.   
She was lowering herself to her knees when he stopped her with an arm on her shoulder. She darted a desperate pleading look up at him   
“I’m sorry.. whatever I did.. I’m so, so, sorry. Please forgive me.” She begged pitifully.

He looked at her with disarrayed thoughts.   
He should send her back to bed and leave, prudence informed him. It had been instructing him not to come at all earlier.   
Yet here he found himself. It was unsatisfactory but there it was. The decision made he pulled her forward into his arms and apparated them both back to his bedroom.   
She promptly burst into tears and flung herself at him thanking him profusely and promising not to upset him again.   
He allowed her to carry on for a while, patting the silky skin of her back absently. What had she done to upset him? he could not recall. Either way, he was tired. 

“Get into bed, Hermione” he ordered wearily, suppressing a yawn with difficulty. She did not require telling twice. She was under the covers and waiting almost before he’d finished the instruction.   
He disrobed himself again and climbed back into bed, extinguishing the torches with a vague wave.   
It was still cold.   
He reached out and found the hot smooth curvy shape next to him and pulled her close.   
She eagerly draped herself around him, warming him.. he felt a vague stirring but he was too tired to bother with that at present, instead he pressed a light kiss to the top of her head nuzzled in against his chest.   
Inhaling he breathed a pleased sigh. She had obviously bathed since this morning. Her hair smelled of apples again. He wrapped her more tightly against him and drifted to sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

He woke slowly.. the warm weight next to him lulling him to wish to sleep longer when his mind was already floating toward the surface. It was the psychic noise he became aware of before any true physical particularity. The girl was awake and she was trying to remain absolutely still. Her mind was circling around happiness and fear.

‘I wish I could stay right here.. Please, please, don’t let him wake and send me away. If I don’t wake him up, I can stay here a little longer. His arms feel strong even in sleep. He smells nice.. like books..and leaves. Never, never ask him about his memories. Never question him. He taught me his own spells. Maybe I’ll never use them. I couldn’t stand the thought of someone else knowing them. He shared them with me. ME.” 

He sighed deeply, giving up on sleep.   
“I am aware you are awake, you know” he informed her dryly. “you think very loudly.” 

The girl immediately flinched and he heard her straining not to think and failing, her thoughts circling desperation and self recrimination. The apology streaming from her mind was overwhelming.   
He brought his hand to his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. That was not the effect he had intended. 

He was suddenly reminded of a girl he had dated at Hogwarts in his sixth year. She was a pretty blonde thing from Gryffindor. She worshipped him. He thought she was quite adequate to fuck and have on his arm. She wasn’t particularly intelligent and she was rather..sweet.. He didn’t really care for ‘sweet’ things. She fit his image perfectly however.   
When she had tried to get closer to him..to learn more about his...feelings.. he had grown short with her. He had snarled something or other at her.. and tossed a jibe in about her ass.   
It was patently false, her ass was absolutely perfect.. a wonderful little aesthetically formed handful. Her body really was flawless. But the insult had struck her so deeply, it seemed, that she had run off.

She had come crawling back to him apologising and begging his forgiveness and he had readily bestowed it and continued to fuck her and court her publically without much deeper thought.   
Every time she did something he didn’t like or tried to insinuate herself closer to him – to discover what he really thought..what his childhood had been like.. what he did with his ‘friends’ when he wasn’t with her – he would change the subject and make some comment or insinuation that she was putting on weight or that her skin was getting very spotty.. her hair was a mess or she had bags beneath her eyes.. and in time she began to make those statements true. She looked less and less attractive and he redoubled his criticisms of her.   
As it turned out, she had stopped eating.. hardly slept. She used spells constantly to improve her appearance and they took their toll, destroying her natural beauty. And then she just faded away.   
It didn’t take very long at all. Half a school year.. and then she was in the infirmary off and on.. and then she was in St Mungos.. and then there was a minute of silence for her in the great hall one morning over breakfast and all he could really think was how irritating it was of her to dare to die. He would have to simulate mourning now. Tedious cow. 

Hermione was far too intelligent to end up like...  
He couldn’t remember her name, he realised. Her. The blond girl with the enormous blue eyes. 

He was surprised to note the relative quiet from beside him. He turned his head, peering down. She wore a look of extreme focus. Was she occluding him?!   
“Hermione..” he said softly. “What are you doing?” 

His voice broke her concentration and a spiral of desperation and determination washed over him. She had been occluding him. She had apparently, by sheer dint of will, figured out how it worked right now in order not to upset him. She apologised softly and resumed focussing hard.   
He was impressed and disappointed in equal parts. Her abilities were considerable..still..her adoration..her insecurity was weakness. At best she would become like Bella and at worst..Miranda..   
That was her name! At worst she would break herself like Miranda in the hopes of pleasing him.. She was so very young and inexperienced. 

“Stop that..” he reproved gently. “I did not mean to sound critical. I enjoy your mind. Do not hide from me.” 

Her thoughts flickered faintly on the edge of his awareness.. but it was muted compared to how open she had felt before.   
He swallowed, feeling unaccountably regretful. She would always be able to do this now.. to silence herself to him.   
He hated that.   
The thought that she might never again be that bright open book, her thoughts dancing at easy reach constantly actually saddened him.. He pulled her closer.   
“Stop..Hermione.. Come back. you are.. “ he petered out, biting off the insults that had pressed to the front of his mind. You are being foolish...You are irritating me..You do not understand the simplest things. You are being weak and insipid.. You are making me rethink my decision to teach you.   
He frowned, unsure how to fix what was wrong with her.. concerned that his words might compound the problem. 

“Come.. we will rise.” He slipped out of bed and strode to the bathroom without looking back. 

Opting for a shower, he waved on the water and stepped into the open mosaic tiled area. The stream was instantly hot. Turning, he tilted his head back, letting it flow over him. Warmth.   
He enjoyed showers immensely.   
Running his hands back over the smooth curve of his scalp he wondered where the girl was. Surely she had understood that she was to follow. He could not hear her mind anywhere near. Perhaps she had remained in bed.   
He opened his eyes mildly irritated and almost startled.   
She was standing uncertainly at the edge of the shower area, biting her lip. That was..disconcerting. He did not like the new silence from her at all. 

Allowing his eyes to wander down her delectable little body he murmured “Do you not want to join me, my dear?” 

Her eyes flickered joy at him but her mind..nothing.. He felt that uncomfortable pinch in his chest again that he had lost something he had not realised he had valued.   
As the slight girl stepped into the shower with him he reflected that it had been... many..many years since he had last showered with another person. He had had Severus in the shower.. before that.. not since..Madeline? Mary? Miranda.. 

The small warm hands tentatively reached for him, sliding up his chest. Hermione’s hair was covered in tiny shiny beads from the spray.. not yet wet. It glittered aesthetically.   
He pulled her to him and turned, allowing the water to fall over her. She gasped and smiled up at him, the water flattening her curls down to her head.   
It was ridiculous but he had become quite fond of her in such a short time. His decision to retrieve her last night had demonstrated that unmistakeably. 

It was unwise to become attached to things. 

On the other hand.. he argued internally.. she was his.. He could do with her as he liked.   
It bothered him that she was shielding herself from him.

She stood under the water, her eyes closed now and arms slung around his waist, looking perfectly blissful. Curious he probed at her mind, testing her occlumentic shield. It was..passable.. for one who had never before showed any sign of skill in the area.. It halted passive projection of her thoughts but in terms of defences it was quite basic. He insinuated himself past it using contact legilimency to strengthen his access.   
Now .. he sighed inwardly, relieved.. he could hear her again..   
She was thinking about him.. he had come to get her last night. As he listened, it became a litany of accolades to him in her head. - He had held her all night and it felt better than anything.. he gave her two wands..and he taught her spells only he knew and discussed his own thoughts with her when he didn’t have to - he could have handed her a tome of curses and said – learn these – but instead he’d challenged her .. and he had let her use his wand.. His wand!! That was pretty much sacred in the wizarding world. And he had saved her from Dumbledore.. it was terrible that all those children had been killed because of her but.. unfortunately, by best will she didn’t wish she was back in Dumbledore’s trap. It was a terrible thing, but it was what it was. And..he’d risked doing something dangerous to himself personally, just because he thought she might be in danger. She didn’t have words to describe that.. it was just a fizzing clenching joyful sensation.   
The list went on and on - he’d given her his own books to borrow and when she’d lost them he hadn’t even gotten upset at her. If they had been her books she would have been livid. She was even more livid because they were his books. She wondered if they were at all replaceable. Or.. perhaps.. she could get them back somehow. 

The Dark Lord, hearing this, reminded himself to put an end to that line of thinking later. The books had been valuable to him – he had had them many years. But they were not irreplaceable. 

Hermione’s eyes opened, blinking away droplets and scanned over his body wonderingly. Her hushed reverent commentary in her mind expressed the view that he was beautiful. So pale..perfectly formed..strange and wonderous. Smooth.. graceful.. She was astounded once again that she was allowed to be here.. so close.. allowed to touch him..  
He tilted his head, watching her fascinated perusal. She was looking at his chest. He glanced down surreptitiously to see where her eyes fell.   
‘His nipple is white..like a statue..’ she whispered inside her mind. ‘I want to lick it..’   
He smirked faintly, amused, as her timid eyes flicked up to his face, trying to gauge his mood. She swallowed, seeing his eyes fixed on her. In her mind she was waxing lyrical about their colour and extraordinary shape.   
She really was quite accepting of his appearance, he recognised. 

He had felt her attraction to his previous form when he’d glamoured himself.. but it appeared this body.. this.ruined face.. appealed to her in a different way.   
‘Like being with a god’ her mind breathed faintly, almost too fragile a thought to catch.   
He felt a quiet pleasure at it. Her adoration was like bathing his mind in warmth.   
He rewarded her by lifting her chin and capturing her mouth, tasting her. She tried to pull away and he caught the edge of anxiety about her breath.. something about teeth.   
He concentrated on the modified scourgify he’d developed when he was young and tasted faint mint upon her tongue.   
She breathed in sharply, surprised and then pulled away. “Teach me that!!” she demanded urgently. How does it work?! Are my teeth actually clean?! That’s amazing! She ran her pointed pink tongue over her small white even teeth.   
He ignored her and dragged her back to his mouth..kissing her more demandingly now. He was not in the mood for an apprentice. He wanted her adoration.. he wanted her pleasure and need surrounding him. She melted immediately, obedient to his desires as ever. 

Backing her up against the wall he slid his hands down her slick skin, bending slightly to wrap them behind and around her thighs. She squeaked against his mouth when he lifted her up against the wall and sunk himself deep into her without warning. She was all scorching heat and slippery arousal. Already wet for him, he marvelled approvingly.   
He pinned her with his pelvis in place as she wrapped her legs about him, and reached up, drawing her hands from where they were trying to curl themselves around his neck and pressing them against the tiny blue and green mosaic pieces of the shower wall. A moment’s thought and they were pinned there. 

He broke the kiss and looked into her bright, eager eyes. Already breathing rapidly in lust, she bit her bottom lip and moved her hips against him, circling.   
Her mind was full of unconnected exhortations. ‘Fuck. So deep this way. Move. Want you. So fucking sexy.. strong. Please.. move. do it hard. Want you.’ 

One hand supporting her under her ass, he reached for her breast with the other, gripping it roughly and pulling it up, bending and taking her nipple in his mouth and sucking.   
She mewled and squirmed against him frustratedly.   
He had not started moving yet.. merely pinned her impaled to the wall. When he bit down on the tiny bead of flesh in his mouth she yelped and bucked and he felt a rush of heat over his cock.   
She liked it..- the pain.   
The realisation pleased him greatly. He doubted she would like the degree of violence he enjoyed inflicting.. but this could be encouraged.   
She reacted more and more positively the less gently he handled her. Whispering pleas and expletives as he mauled her. His teeth on her neck drawing blood, his hands on her breasts and ass bruising. “Beg for it” he demanded her in a low cold voice.   
She did not hesitate. Pleading with him to fuck her. Please.. god she wanted him.. wanted it. Needed. “Please.. anything.. need you..” it was music..   
Admittedly he was more familiar with pleas for him to stop.. but he could perhaps..explore how much it might take to bring her to that point..another time. 

He pinned her to the wall and pinched her nipples in between the thumb and forefingers of each hand, whispering a rather tame spell. It had a dramatic effect however. She squealed in shock and struggled against the spell binding her wrists to the wall for a moment.   
“It..hurts..” she whined with wide eyes..   
He smirked. “Yes.. Doesn’t it just?!.”   
Bending low once again he sucked her nipple into his mouth, enjoying her gasp and whimper, wriggling against him once again.   
The spell was distantly related to stinging hexes. It had been applied as a punishment historically - To children of all things. If a child sucked its thumb or swore or – apparently – exposed itself in public, the spell would be applied. It stung and burned when left alone, but if touched it felt like the affected appendage was being stabbed with needles. It was entirely harmless but quite unpleasant.   
He inspected Hermione’s reaction to it. She was still whimpering and wore an unsure hurt expression at his gentle suckling upon the offended part.   
He released it with a soft audible pop and reached for her knees wrapped around him. Her expression sharpened and she became expectant again..wetting her lip with her tongue. 

Unfolding her, he lifted her legs, leaning them against his shoulders. She weighed practically nothing. He folded her in half against the wall deliberately mashing her breasts with her own legs.. and then he drew back.. almost slipping out of her, and thrust back into her forcefully.   
She yelped as he slammed against her cervix. Pleased, he did it again harder, setting up a hard swift beat as her eyes glazed. Her mind was flickering between arousal and aversion.   
He slowed his rhythm, winding his hips against her and drew her legs as far apart as they would go, holding her beneath the knees in each hand and leaning forward, capturing her mouth.   
As she responded eagerly, sucking at his tongue and moaning at his teasing lingering grinding against her, he interspersed slow rolling and grinding with sudden deep painful thrusts.   
After a while she responded even more frenzied to the stabbing pain than she did to the softer movements. 

Sliding his hands up her calves and moving back slightly he straightened her legs, forcing them hard back till her feet touched the wall behind her, thrusting her pelvis out toward him. The overextension of her body must have been uncomfortable for her. He had had to press her legs quite hard to force them where he wanted them in order to bind them there, but now she was so wonderfully open. He could drive even deeper.   
He shifted his hands back down to her waist and began to pound into her brutally once again.   
She was like a scorching velvet vise. He would have to restrict some of his more favoured activities perhaps unless he was willing to ruin that.   
Her face was tight with pain and her mouth gaped wide as she panted, her body compressed. It was exquisite. 

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked with a smirk, already knowing the answer. 

She bit her lip and shook her head. “No! Please!..it just.. just.. you’re so big..and my..legs..please don’t stop” 

He snorted and massaged a breast with his palm, slowing his thrusts. She flinched and whimpered at the pain from the gentle touch.   
“You will learn to enjoy this.. and more.. my dear” he promised in a low dark voice. “If you wish to be my..consort..”   
He studied the way her eyes widened and felt her clench around his cock.   
He smirked. “And I see that that is what you truly desire to be.” Leaning in he kissed her roughly, nipping her lip as he withdrew.   
“Even with adaptation.. You will not ..always.. enjoy..being with me – Hermione. Nor, will I always desire you to. I ..derive pleasure..from your suffering” He punctuated his remarks with hard slow deep thrusts that he felt bottoming out in the small girl’s channel. 

She whimpered but clenched her muscles around him. “I want you” she whimpered. “Anything.. please.. just you..”

He was very pleased. The girl would take training well, he was sure..   
Rewarding her, he slipped the hand from her breast down between her thighs and circled her hard clit slowly. Her response was galvanic. She groaned loudly and strained against her bonds.

“Oh.. Fuck.. so good. Please.. please my Lord.. “

Her selective choice of the more respectful name right now deserved reward, he felt and he cancelled the painful charm on her nipples, substituting it for another; this one situated more firmly in the area of sex magic – it emulated the feeling of suckling, warm, pressure, the illusion of wetness.   
She moaned loudly and came within seconds, straining and falling limp, panting. Then.. as he had expected, the sensation in her breasts and upon her clit suddenly shifted from intensely pleasurable to painfully over-sensitively pleasurable. She jerked and tried to get away.   
He increased the pressure on her bright red little clit, mashing it with his thumb in constant maddening circles. Her desperate twitching and begging was pleasant too. 

Holding her thigh with one hand, he took up his deep hard thrusting once again. Against her will he forced another quaking climax out of her with his thumb and cock and the stimulation on her nipples but this time he removed the charm on her and fucked her slowly, languidly, as she twitched and gasped in sensitivity. 

When she had calmed sufficiently he increased his speed and depth once more, seeking his own release and hoping to bring her with him once more time.   
He was not disappointed.   
When he leaned in and captured her lips she was moaning and dazed.   
Just as he felt her nearing her peak used the faint link he still had with her mind to force an image into her awareness.   
It was of a much younger Severus, hot and sweaty, on his knees, cursing a young muggle red headed girl while he himself rode him from behind, urging him on.   
Severus was panting and bucking back at him. He wore an expression of lust dulled excited fascination at the screams and writhing of the girl. He alternated between the cruciatus, slicing and percussive force spells. The girl looked a mess. 

Hermione gasped into his mouth in shock, stealing his breath through the kiss. 

As he drove Severus to his climax the young boy screamed out AVADA KEDAVRA..the green flash incandescent as it emitted from his wand. The screaming of the girl was cut off like a switch and the younger human-looking Dark Lord behind him grabbed him by the hair and wrenched his head to the side, kissing him hungrily, as the boy still spasmed in his lust and shot his seed over the bed.   
Moments later he released him and cried out his own pleasure, coming inside the boy. 

Hermione moaned urgently and tried to buck against him as he fucked her hard and fast. He shifted the scene in her mind and she was riding him in a backwards cowgirl pose as he sat on his throne, fondling her breasts and playing with her clit. Harry Potter was on the floor at the foot of the dais screaming and begging and she was holding his wand upon him, panting and grinding on his cock. 

He felt her confused excited response to this change of image. She was so close to her climax that it only aroused her further. 

In the vision he pulled her hair back and to the side, tilting her head and feasting upon her throat, as he bucked up into her.   
“Only one of us may live” he murmured, nipping and sucking on her throat as she moved her hips in a circle. He lowered his hands to her hips, guiding her and thrusting up in counterpoint.   
“Do it” he groaned. “Show me..you..want..to..be..mine”   
As she began to fall apart with pleasure she cried out the killing curse, throwing Harry back a metre or so with the force of it.   
His wide green eyes gazed unseeingly at them both as she screamed out her pleasure and he came along with her. 

The mutual shattering was reflected in reality at the same time. She screamed, clamping down upon him and forcing him to succumb to his release too..   
All of her muscles were taut as her body clenched and wanted to wrap itself around him. He found he also wanted that and released her bindings at once, as the sensations rolled through him in tight burning waves of ecstasy. Having her curled tightly around him was bliss right now.. He bucked faintly up into her, his arms around her and supporting her back and ass.   
Her voice was all breathy pants and whimpers by his ear. His own came fast and deep.   
“::Mine::” he hissed in parseltongue against her ear and felt her entire body shudder in pleasure around him.

 

 

Severus glared at the small crowd of muggles standing in a clump inside what was apparently to be the new ‘lab’ for the Dark Lord’s cloning project.   
He had found the place almost accidentally – noting a new door next to the entrance to his own lab and deciding to investigate. Anything in the vicinity of his potion work had to be vetted. Unexpected interruptions could be deadly.   
He had raised his hand to knock upon the door and it had opened to his proximity, admitting him. 

The interior was vast. Easily five times the size of his own laboratory, the ceiling disappearing into darkness overhead. 

The muggles were standing conferring among themselves in a number of different languages and looked up, apparently shocked when he entered and halted, surprised.   
There seemed to be twelve of them. They were visibly divided into two camps, one of which seemed to be considering rushing him and attempting an escape, if their nervous movements and eyeing one another was any guide.   
He put that notion to bed by drawing his wand and simply levitating that group a few inches off the ground. 

Dismayed cries rang out. A short Japanese man from the placid group muttered something smugly which Severus did not understand. 

He realised that the Dark Lord had obviously chosen to take the best muggles irrespective of nationality. Trust the Dark Lord to make things even more complicated than otherwise by adding linguistic difficulties into the mix. 

He fixed the entire group with a cool stare. “Which of you are capable of understanding english” 

There was a moment of hesitation and then six hands were raised. He sighed. Half the group.   
All but one of the rebellious ones spoke english. Only two of the larger more placid group spoke it, one of them the short Japanese man who had said something before. 

He addressed the man hopefully. “Do you know what languages the others speak?” 

The little man nodded and smiled. “Schroffstedt speak German” he pointed at the last member of the rebellious group.   
“Iritani, Goto, Kobayashi and I – Kenzai Takiuchi – speak Japanese. Tikhonov-Russian...Dayuan- Chinese” 

Severus wiped a hand down his face. “You can translate for your Japanese colleagues, I assume?”   
Takiuchi nodded amiably.   
He looked at the Russian and Chinese muggles who seemed extremely confused and suspicious about what was going on.   
“Does anyone here speak Russian or Chinese?” Severus asked hopefully. There were some heads shaken. It was as he had expected. 

Scowling he snapped his fingers for a house elf. When the small grey creature popped into the room there were shouts and gasps from the assembled men and those who were able to touch the ground took an uneasy step back.   
A rabble of angry, shocked conversation blared and he silenced the lot of them without looking, smirking at the way eyes widened and hands raised to grip at throats in shock and horror.   
The little house elf was entirely unperturbed. 

“How is Ketta be helping you’s Master Snape?”   
Its ears perked hopefully. 

“Go to my quarters and retrieve from the third drawer of the filing cabinet a round golden translating charm, if you please Ketta.” 

The house elf dropped a short bow and popped away again.   
Severus, reluctantly, turned his attention back to the muggle scientists. Various expressions of horror, wonder and curiosity were painted on their faces. 

“I’m going to take off the silencing charm. DON’T all talk at once.”   
He finited them and more than half quietly cleared their throats or made some kind of hum, as if testing whether they could speak again.   
Severus smirked. These were clearly a very different kind of muggle from the typical ones that were brought into the castle. 

“Now. I do not doubt you have questions. If you would wait a moment, I will see to our communication barriers and then I will explain what exactly is going on here and we will discuss how to proceed. Understood?”   
The english speaking members nodded shortly and after a whispered conversation the three Japanese (who seemed more fascinated than afraid) also nodded once, respectfully. 

Ketta banged back into the room, making several muggles jump and was, Severus was relieved to note, holding the correct (universal) translation charm.   
“Very good Ketta.” He lauded it. The small elf beamed.   
“I will need six more charms exactly like that one, if you would be so good..” 

The elf nodded eagerly and looked down at the necklace in its hands, concentrating, then pulling it apart into two identical necklaces. It tossed one into the air, levitating it effortlessly and then repeated the procedure six more times, gathering up the necklaces then and passing them up to Severus.   
“Here you goes Master Snape. What can Ketta dos now?” 

Severus hesitated, about to dismiss the elf. “If you would like to remain, you may build some furniture for us shortly, Ketta” 

As if Christmas had come early, the elf grinned wide.   
“Oh! Thanking you Sirs!!!! Ketta would like to make furnitures for the Master and muggles.” 

Severus nodded and dismissed the little creature to the side. 

“Here. One necklace for each non english speaker, Takiuchi.”   
He passed the many dangling charms to the man who was slightly more than half his height, who took them, nodding, without comment and started to pass them out. 

“Excuse me, whoever you are!” a twangy American accent grated across his nerves. “Could you put us back down?! Its undignified to float around like this!” 

Severus determined that he was not going to like this man. “

And you are?” he enquired coolly, neither acquiescing in lowering the group, nor introducing himself.   
The man bristled.   
“You abduct us and you don’t even know who we are?!” 

Severus snorted. “I did not abduct you. I have not yet been informed who you are or why you in particular are here as opposed to some other muggle – However I can only assume it is due to your particular specialisation in some area related to cloning. Who you are is not of much consequence.”   
He looked about. Everyone apart from Tikhonov and Dayuan had put on the necklaces.   
He ran his thumb over the one in his hand. It was a black ribbon with a triangular silver pendant into which was engraved a complex translation charm in runic circles. He put it on and addressed the two recalcitrant scientists who were shaking their heads and looking at the Japanese man suspiciously. 

~Please put on the necklace~ he instructed them quietly. ~It will enable you to understand everyone else here. I swear that it will do you no harm.~ 

“What are you talking about? I understand you perfectly” Tikhonov responded curtly. “i have no need for a silly necklace.” Dayuan made a similar comment.   
Both men looked at one another with raised eyebrows.   
“You understand Russian?” Tikhonov asked the Chinese fellow as he asked the other about speaking Chinese. They were both confused by the foreign language of the other when each visibly seemed to understand Severus.   
He responded with more patience than he felt. ~No. neither of you speak the language of the other. You both understand me because of this ‘silly necklace’ I am wearing. If you put on the silly necklace that I have given you, you will understand all languages and we can proceed. At the moment you understand me and your Japanese speaking colleagues because we are wearing translating necklaces, but as you see – your English speaking colleagues are not wearing them because I myself speak English. If you do not wear the charm you will not know what they are saying and will be at a disadvantage.”

That seemed to decide the matter for the two men. Clearly they did not want to be at a disadvantage to American and British scientists. They slipped the necklaces on quickly and looked to him in question.   
“Excellent. Then I will assume we all understand one another now. Good morning. I don’t imagine you slept well so we will forego the pleasantries – I am Severus Snape. I am going to tell you of a number of things that will likely seem fantastical and improbable to you. My patience is not endless. It would be wise for you, scepticism notwithstanding, to restrain yourself from foolish comments and try to keep an open mind.” 

There were slow nods from several of the scientists. Severus considered that an encouraging enough sign to make himself (and the others necessarily) more comfortable. 

“Ketta – If you could transfigure some armchairs and a round table and bring us all tea and coffee...” The elf which had been forgotten for a moment at the side of the room bounced forward happily thanking Master Snape and conjured thirteen black leather armchairs in a circle around a black hardwood table. A moment later it cracked away.   
The gaping faces of most of the muggles amused Severus as he made his way over to the table. 

“Uh... Mr Snape.. a little help here?!” the mouthy American scientist tried again. 

Severus flicked his wand without looking over and all five muggles dropped to the floor. 

“Sank you” the German among them managed and moved to seat himself at the table. 

When Ketta popped back levitating several trays of tea and coffee, to their credit, most of the muggles did not jump.   
Takiuchi looked delighted in fact and asked politely: “Mr Snape, Sir – what is this creature and how is it able to appear and disappear and make things from nothing?” 

Severus considered the question. It was reasonable and respectful. He chose to answer it while Ketta levitated one cup of tea and one cup of coffee to each of the scientists placing smaller trays with sugar, honey and milk at every third man.   
Severus had only been given a tea and reached for the honey, drizzling it through the hot lemony liquid and stirring it with a spoon. 

“Ketta is an elf, Takiuchi. She is using magic.” 

At this, mouths and eyebrows turned down around the circle in disgruntled annoyance. 

“Pah! Magic?! You think we are perhaps children?” the oldest of the Japanese scientists scorned.   
A British scientist raised an eyebrow “Elves you say – do they come in the night and fix boots too?” 

Severus rolled his eyes. “And after I only just finished instructing you all to keep an open mind. Muggles!” he sighed, sipping his tea and sighing in relief at the taste. 

“What are ‘muggles’?” a British accent enquired politely. 

He turned to the grey haired gentleman that otherwise looked somewhat like Remus.   
“Listen carefully, all of you. There exists a force which you have not perceived because you are genetically incapable of doing so. As names are arbitrary - let us call it magic – since that is what those of us that use it have been calling it for thousands of years. With it, it is possible for humans who are genetically suited, to accomplish things which would be impossible according to a mug...mundane human concept of physics. Muggle is the term for non magic using humans given to them by the magical community.   
As difficult as it may be for you to grasp this – there exists a second world within your world, behind walls you cannot see and have no means of penetrating. In this world – in each of your countries – there are wizards and witches who utilise magic and engage in their own researches in that area.   
For the most part they are not particularly interested in what muggles have discovered or developed. However – my Master has recently decided that he would like to clone a human being – as part of a larger project – and for this reason you have been gathered here and will assist me to determine what is needed in order to realise this goal.” 

There was a sudden blare as everyone (except Takiuchi) started to talk and demand at once. Severus dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. After a minute of this continued blare he put his wand to his throat and amplified his voice “SILENCE!!”   
The noise cut off for a moment but then started up again almost immediately. He frowned and silencioed the lot of them. 

“Clearly we will have to set down some ground rules” he informed them. “When I am talking – you are not. If you wish to speak – raise your hand and I will listen to you one by one. Otherwise we shall get nowhere.”   
Immediately eleven hands shot up into the air.   
Severus huffed irritatedly. He wondered suddenly what Hermione was doing and whether he would be allowed to see her today. The day was going to be tedious it seemed, if this beginning was any indicator. Worse than teaching potions, really. At least the children were frightened enough of him to obey and keep quiet. At that thought his mind drifted toward Harry – the one student (with the possible exception of Hermione) in his class who didn’t obey and keep quiet. He wondered how the boy was. What awful lies would Dumbledore have told him regarding Severus own absence if his lies about Hermione were so terrible?! 

He gestured reluctantly at the mouthy American across the other side of the table. “You. Yes?” The man was rail thin with short dark brown hair and very pale blue eyes. He had an air of entitlement to him. Probably the head of some organisation or the leader of something or other. 

“Just how long do you intend to keep us here?” he demanded “I was kidnapped from my own institute – I have important projects underway that I need to see to; government contracts – you’ll never get away with this! They’ll have the” 

Severus cut him off, resilencioing him. “You will have one question each so think carefully. I don’t have the time or inclination to repeat myself and we have more practical issues to deal with today.   
In answer to your question, whoever you are – You will remain here until our project is complete. My Master has no interest in muggle governments or their contracts. I assure you – you will not be found here and muggle law enforcement has no means of subduing wizardkind.   
If you cooperate and manage not to piss me or any other wizard off too terribly you will be allowed to return home at the completion of our work.   
Next. You.”   
He gestured to the Chinese man who had dark brown clever glinting eyes and seemed a lot less arrogant. 

“Could you please explain the scope of this project?” 

Severus nodded approvingly. “Gladly. We will be ..cloning.. a human being from either blood or semen, as you choose. The object of this will be to produce a healthy living child. That will be the end of your part of the project.   
In order to achieve this goal – you will be given access to unlimited resources – whatever piece of equipment or material resources you require will be provided – you need only assemble a list of your desires and they will be met unreservedly. Money is no object.   
You are encouraged to utilise whatever methods you consider appropriate, unfettered by any system of law or ethics, as no such laws exist here.   
The project will take however long it takes for you to achieve success – therefore I would encourage you to request whatever you think might be of assistance.   
You may also ask for other muggle scientists to be brought here if you believe they might contribute to the project usefully – for example - you may bring your research teams if you wish.” 

“It might be best for you to think of this as a kind of ..international goodwill project. Issues of conflict between nations will be laid aside here in favour of progress.   
Those who cannot observe this rule and attempt to fight or sabotage one another will be removed and possibly sent home in very small pieces.   
It is likely that none of you will ever again have so much freedom to work and experiment in your chosen field, thus it would befit you to appreciate the opportunity you have been given here.” 

“You will also have the chance to observe and learn about magic – something that you would never otherwise have access to. Consider yourselves fortunate” 

Thoughtful expressions settled on a few faces around the table. Severus could see the little wheels turning in some of their heads. To be given freedom and unlimited resources was the point that seemed most often repeated in the minds around the table.   
Several hands went into the air. He selected the Russian.

“Will we be able to keep the technological advancement we develop together here?” 

Severus pondered this.   
“I do not know. Personally.. I do not see why not. The muggle and wizarding worlds have little to do with one another. Your work in this area is unlikely to have any impact upon us.   
I will have to speak with my Master.” 

The Russian brightened considerably. It seemed that he was quite accepting of participating in the project provided that the combined achievement of the greatest minds in cloning would be taken back to Russia afterward. 

Severus gestured at the next fellow – a middle aged, balding, bearded man with large glasses. When he spoke he had a east english accent.   
“Thank you. I am Sir Ian Wilmut of the Roslin Institute. I was just wondering – as you said that ..muggle... technologies are of little interest to your kind – what exactly do you need a cloned baby for?”

Many faces sharpened at that and Severus realised that most of them had not considered that far. They were too caught up in the how and when and what of the issue.   
He was not sure whether or not the truth would be a good idea.   
After a minute’s deliberation he decided that an edited version of the truth might be best at this juncture.

“My Master wishes to continue his legacy with...himself..as heir.” 

This answer seemed to content half the group and perturb the other half. He had hesitated too long, he realised. They thought he was lying. He decided to come out with the entire truth.   
“The child will serve as a vessel. It will be aged using magic and my Masters soul will blend with it.” 

A hand rose, belonging to a white bearded bald man with patrician features and weary eyes, sitting next to Sir Ian Wilmut. Severus nodded to him.   
He wet his lips nervously and spoke in a soft American accent:   
“Assuming.. such a thing as a soul exists.. what exactly is to happen to the child’s soul if this procedure is carried out, however you intend to carry it out?” 

Severus blinked.   
“I have no idea. I do not know whether the child will even have a soul.   
I would point out - we are speaking here of a man who is powerful enough to kill each and every one of you in seconds on a whim. I rather think that the hypothetical soul of one as yet uncreated child is of little bearing in comparison with pursuing great scientific discovery and returning home safely to your families, don’t you agree?” 

A rather darker mood settled on the group and several of the men reached for their tea or coffee, hiding their faces behind it as they sipped pensively. 

Severus indicated to Takiuchi, whose hand was now the only one in the air, that he could speak. 

“Perhaps we might begin by each compiling lists. First list – other scientists or research fellows who could help with this work. Second list – technical equipment we have been using or might like to have. Third list – materials we need to work with.   
Are we to work in this space? How will it be outfitted?” 

Severus smirked at the man wryly. Takiuchi was clearly going to be a useful little fellow. 

“I agree wholeheartedly.”   
He raised his wand and transfigured each mans unused teacups and saucers into sheets of parchment and quills and ink. Most of the men looked at the quills as if they were spiders about to leap at their faces.   
“What in the world..” an Israeli man expressed. “do you not have pens or pencils?”   
Severus smirked at him. Of course he could have transfigured muggle writing implements, he supposed. But really – they were being overly fussy. 

“In answer to your second question Takiuchi – this room will be outfitted however you please. Ketta will assist me to transfigure furniture for you before the muggle technical equipment you require is procured. It is variable in size – in other words – this space can be as large as you require it to be.   
You may each have a private office however I would prefer you to work on most things in a general area if possible – in the interests of fostering cross-pollenation of ideas.   
You need have no fear that any other here will steal your work – none of you can leave this place. Therefore it is in your interests to share and work together as much as possible. It will only bring you faster to the goal.” 

Several heads nodded. Others were already focused on their parchment, quills held in unfamiliar hands, thinking hard.   
Severus replenished his tea and leaned back in his chair to drink it. There was no way he was going to have this discussion with every new scientist or research assistant these men requisitioned to come here.   
Tedious muggles. 

His mind drifted to Hermione once again, as it tended to when idle lately. Hermione and Potter.. back and forth.. one then the other and then inevitably to his Master.   
But Hermione was the easiest of the three to think about, and thus his mind always wandered there first.   
He recalled how she had clung to him last night, her small arms wrapped around his much larger body.   
She had been afraid - he could feel it. Even with him present and near.. in the dark she had been afraid. He wished there had been another way to free her from Albus’ clutches.   
But as she had related, the threat had been dire. She might not have lived another few hours without intervention and had she lived, she would have forgotten...everything.. She would not want anything to do with Severus or, Merlin forbid, the Dark Lord, unless it was to bring about his demise. She would have been mindless – a puppet of a girl in a golden cage.   
What had happened to her was the lesser of the two evils. She would get over her fear in time. 

Last night he had enfolded her in his arms and stroked her hair slowly and she had gradually calmed and eventually fallen asleep. She had woken distressed and disorientated when his burning mark jolted him awake.   
He hoped that the Dark Lord had been .. it seemed so peculiar to think the words in relation to that man... he hoped he had been...kind...to her. Or at least that he had not punished her or frightened her further.   
For some reason he did not think that the Dark Lord wanted to hurt her, as he apparently wanted to hurt most others. It was something in the way he looked at her.. and..and of course they were quite apparently magically compatible.. he had allowed her to use his wand.. If he had not seen it himself – he would not have believed it.   
And the wand had responded to her far better than he remembered seeing her own respond to her over the years.   
What did that mean?!   
In essence it meant that he had lost her. He had lost the girl he desired again – and there was nothing he could do about it. 

But..the Dark Lord had seemed willing.. at least initially.. to share her to some degree. He...he had seemed willing in fact to create some kind of triad ...the way he had touched Severus, himself..   
He hadn’t known how to react to it.. those cold hands on him.. 

So many years he had spent trying to repress the memories of the Dark Lord as a lover and now he was so inhuman. 

Perhaps if he had responded more favourably, he would be wherever Hermione was now. Or she would be here. or they would both be here with him.   
Instead he had reacted unthinkingly and made the Dark Lord angry and then jealous. And look what it had earned him. No more hot wet Hermione wrapped around him, whimpering and mewling and begging him to fuck her harder. 

A very soft crack behind him startled him, although he did not flinch visibly. From the look of horror on the faces of most of the table, the Dark Lord had apparated in. 

“Good Morning, My Lord” he said quietly.   
A hand placed itself upon his shoulder, gripping lightly. “How are you progressing, Severus?” 

He shrugged. “As well as is to be expected. They are making lists of their needs. Ketta will transfigure the room when we have decided what is needed.” 

The hand slid from his shoulder. He was not sure whether he was relieved or disappointed.   
“Good, good..” the Dark Lord said, distractedly. “You should have five more muggles coming in later today. Assemble the lists of technological apparatus needed as soon as you can. You will need...pensieve memories of the items. Size will be a factor in how I determine to acquire them... This room will also need...electricity, I suppose.” 

The little Japanese man piped up. “Electricity, water, natural gas and a vacuum chute to begin with..”

Severus gave him a dirty look. “Thank you Takiuchi. Anything else?” 

The little man smiled “television. Internet.” 

Severus heard a snort from the Dark Lord. “Television you may have but the internet is too dangerous. You will make a list of the resources you wish to have searched and one of us will use the computer” 

Takiuchi’s face fell slightly.   
“Could you send an email to my wife for me saying not to worry - and I am ok - and will be home soon?”   
Several other scientists in the room looked up and made mumbles of agreement at the thought. 

Severus looked up at the Dark Lord who actually seemed to be considering it.   
After a minute he said finally - “Write your intended emails and give me the email address and I will decide whether they will be sent. Do not try to construct some silly code to call for help. You are in a location that is quite literally unreachable to muggle law enforcement and you do not even know what country you are currently in.   
Moreover, I could take you to the other side of the world in less than a minute if the need arose. Therefore – if you would inform your...loved ones ...of your situation.. do so with discretion and intelligence or your message will not be sent.” 

Several of the men nodded emphatically. 

“And finish your lists first. Acquiring the technology and materials you require will have a latency period – during which time you can work on emails to your families...”   
He half turned, his posture advertising his imminent departure.   
“Severus. When you have ordered the room, you will come and speak with me. “ 

Severus.. against his own better judgement couldn’t prevent himself from asking the question at the forefront of his mind right now.   
“Will she be there, my Lord?” 

Voldemort scowled and cast a muffliato quickly.

“She is mine, Severus. By her own will. You have displayed your reluctance to join us when I offered you the opportunity. You cannot have her alone.” 

He paused and a conflicted expression passed over his serpentine face. He reached out slowly and laid a cool smooth hand against the potion Master’s cheek.   
“I ...regret... standing between you and another witch you desire, Severus – but the girl chose to come to me before I knew of your feelings for her and knowing does not alter the fact that her magic and my own are attuned. ...I will not relinquish her to please you, my servant. I am...possessive...of the witch..as foolish as that may be.”

Severus felt a twinge of pain in his chest. He was possessive of Hermione too. He could not lose her completely when he had gambled everything he had upon her..   
“Please, My Lord.. please give me another chance.” He turned his face in toward the hand at his cheek and kissed it.   
“I will be...whatever you want me to be.. please do not send me forth from you both.” 

The Dark Lord swallowed. Severus could see the man’s marble adam’s apple bob slightly. He tried again.   
“Please..my Lord... I was merely surprised by your advance..I did not think you would want me. I did not think you truly wanted me the last time and..well..the years have not been kind – it was a shock that you would wish me to serve you in..in that way.. Master.”   
He turned his face in further and darted his tongue out, flickering it quickly over the centre of the cool white palm before withdrawing.   
The Dark Lord’s breath caught. Red eyes glinted as he appraised him.   
After long seconds he responded neutrally “Is that so?... We will talk when you come to me later, my servant.” 

He removed his hand from Severus cheek and stepped back, turning and disapparating on the spot. 

Severus drew a deep calming breath, knowing the ramifications of what he had just done. 

He turned back to the table. Every single muggle face was staring at him with an expression ranging from blank horror to scientific fascination.   
“Get back to work” he barked irritatedly, folding his arms.   
Nobody moved.   
The mouthy American raised his hand urgently. Severus gestured at him with impatience.   
The result was as pointless as he had expected.

“What the fuck was that creature?! Some kind of genetic aberration? An alien? What the hell are we dealing with here?!”   
The concern was reflected on every face.   
Severus groaned. 

“That was the Dark Lord Voldemort. He is my Master – and thus transitively your Master. He is not an alien – He may technically be currently another species at present if you want to put a fine point on it. He is a man – or he was originally a man. His current appearance is the result of a particular resurrection ritual. It is that which our work here seeks to correct. I would strongly advise you to moderate both your words and your thoughts around him as he will take offense at either and he is not typically known for his mercy toward muggles.” 

Various calculating expressions settled on the faces of the mainly middle aged men.   
The little Japanese man, Takiwhatsit spoke up in a carefully controlled tone. “You kissed his palm.” 

Severus growled in annoyance. “Just get on with your bloody lists, or you’ll see how little mercy I have for muggles.”


	15. Chapter 15

Harry knocked on the door yet again.   
There was no answer. 

He felt a kind of hollow despair welling up inside him.   
First the girl he loved was taken away (by Professor Dumbledore but it made no difference. She was taken away from him. She wasn’t here anymore. ) then Snape vanished too just when the man had changed from being a cruel horrible tormentor into a cruel seductive tormentor and now he had no one again. He was alone here.   
Both the people he trusted were with Voldemort and if the memories could be believed – everything was different than he had thought. 

He didn’t know what to do. 

Was Voldemort still going to kill him? He’d sent those memories. He didn’t have to send them.   
Harry wanted to get away from the headmaster who, if the memories were to be believed, had absolutely no compunction about hurting anyone in order to get what he wanted, but there was nowhere for him to go.   
He had ..no one.   
If he left – he would be tracked by the order and the death eaters. If he stayed- well.. it was a matter of time before Dumbledore did something else to tighten the noose around his neck.   
He leaned against Snape’s door feeling forlorn and let himself slide down to the floor. 

The voice that suddenly spoke behind him chilled him to the bone. 

“I’m afraid Professor Snape has not returned, Harry.”   
Dumbledore, standing against the opposite wall some way down the corridor.   
How long had he been there? 

“What’s happened to him, Headmaster? When will he come back?!”   
he tried to keep the pleading hopeless tone out of his voice but it crept in anyway. 

Dumbledore stepped off the wall and walked to him, extending a hand to help him to his feet.   
“I do not know, my boy. But Professor Snape has been absent for longer periods in the past. I am hopeful that he will return again this time also. Perhaps he will bring Miss Granger with him. Come now. You are missing dinner. You must remember to eat, Harry.” 

Harry nodded blankly and allowed himself to be led up to the great hall. When Dumbledore deposited him next to Ginny and Ron and strolled off to the head table he became aware of the weighty pressure of many eyes upon him.   
The feeling sickened him. It always had.   
Ginny edged closer and threadled her arm around his, clinging to him possessively. 

He didn’t want it. 

Unable to just shake her off and walk away as he desperately wanted, he unhooked his arm neutrally in the process of getting himself a plate of food for dinner. The red headed girl pouted unattractively.   
“Where have you been all day, Harry? We were worried about you!!” she demanded quietly. Ron emitted a grunt of agreement around a large mouthful of potato. 

Harry shrugged. “I just needed to be alone and think for a while. You know how it is.” 

He received blank stares from the two Weasleys and Seamus, Dean and Neville across from him.   
No. They didn’t know. Gryffindors tended to go to others when they were upset. They found comfort in group bonding. Slytherins were the ones who generally went off by themselves to lick wounds or think about things. 

Harry sighed. “Snape hasn’t returned” he said quietly. 

The look of blind jubilant joy on Neville’s face across from him upset him even more. While he knew that Snape had tortured poor Neville in potions, it didn’t change the fact that his own view of the man was irreversibly altered now.   
In his mind’s eye he saw black lust filled eyes looking up at him as the man sucked his cock with visible pleasure.   
The things he’d done.. Harry had thought he’d go mad with the sensations.   
He had been flat on his back looking up into those black eyes and Snape’d been just about to fuck him when Ron had turned up with the news about Mione. After that.. it just hadn’t happened what with the emotion of everything.   
But now, Harry couldn’t seem to manage to see that dour sadistic face yelling in potions anymore. 

Snape had held him close and stroked his back while he had cried for hours. He had enclosed him in that warm comforting feeling of safety, letting Harry clutch at his body and run his fingers through the shoulder length black locks. 

Harry pushed his plate away untouched and got up from the table, avoiding the Headmaster’s face and shaking his head irritatedly at the concerned questions of Ginny and Ron, turning and walking out of the great hall without another word to the Gryffindors.   
He wandered up the stairs and through empty corridors till he ended up in the east corner of the castle, staring out a many diamond-paned window into the darkness, his forehead resting against the glass. 

He was just about to turn and make his way quickly to the Gryffindor portrait before curfew when the unexpected hand settling on his shoulder made him jump several inches into the air. He whirled, breathing fast. 

“It’s only me” the spacey blonde girl said placidly. 

He tried to calm down his frantically beating heart. He was being stupid wandering around in this level of distraction – that could have been Draco or one of the other Slytherins, it could have been Professor Dumbledore – hell it could have been death eaters who had infiltrated the castle. He needed to be more aware of his environment. 

“Hi Luna” he managed shakily. 

The girl smiled and moved up to the window next to him. “It’s a wonderful evening for ringlebat watching. Are you looking for the densest concentrations before you go outside?” 

Harry blinked. “Um.. no. I don’t know what ringlebats are. I was just thinking, mainly.” 

Luna looked at him with surprise “Oh. I thought you were watching the ringlebats by the forbidden forest. They’re very pretty this time of year. You won’t be able to think very clearly in the castle. It’s infested with wrackspurts. That’s why everything feels so confusing lately.” 

Harry nodded agreeably. “Confusing.. yeah.. you can say that again.” 

Luna frowned slightly. “Confusing” she said uncertainly. 

Harry smiled.   
“You always manage to cheer me up, Luna” he said softly. 

The slight blonde girl smiled dreamily back and then said “Don’t worry Harry – you aren’t really alone.” 

Harry started and looked at her guiltily. “I .. wasn’t..um..” 

The blonde girl commented abruptly “Professor Dumbledore isn’t very nice, is he?”   
Harry gaped.   
“Luna!..how..what.. um.. why do you say that?” 

The spacey blue eyes wandered back out the window. “Draco is here. Goodbye Harry!”   
The girl turned and wrapped him in a sudden hug before turning and wandering off down the corridor. Harry was too shocked to really react to her leaving, he was looking across at Draco Malfoy, standing a short distance up the other corridor looking at him with restrained fury.   
“Potter!” he hissed like someone very pissed trying to remain as quiet as they could. “I’ve been looking for you for an hour! What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?! If Looney hadn’t told me to come up here I’d have given up already.” 

He rummaged around in a pocket and pulled out a very tiny silver and green present like the last one he’d given him. “Here! Take it and push off before you get me caught out after curfew!” 

Harry rushed over, Draco almost forgotten in the face of another message from Voldemort possibly about Hermione (and Snape), and snatched it out of the ferret’s hand, immediately rushing up the corridor without looking back, not stopping till he reached the room of requirement.   
Just as he was entering the dull chime of curfew sounded throughout the corridors and he closed the door behind him with a sigh of relief. 

He had the package torn open and the single phial of silvery memory out in seconds as he strode toward the chair and pensieve. Tossing himself down into the chair he tipped the silvery substance in quickly and inserted a finger, falling into the memory immediately. 

 

 

He tumbled down into the room he recognised as Voldemort’s study. He was facing the bookcases and turned hurriedly to find Hermione sitting on the sofa, curled into one corner reading a large black book with obvious fascination. 

Darting over he knelt on the floor beside her, reaching a hand out toward her face although he knew he couldn’t touch her in a memory.   
She looked well and not afraid in the slightest. 

“Where are you up to? We will have lunch shortly.” 

The voice made Harry look up and he realised suddenly that Voldemort was seated at his desk, working on something.   
He’d been in the room the entire time?   
Harry looked back at Hermione confusedly. She didn’t seem at all bothered. That was ...wrong... 

She spoke now but didn’t lift her eyes from the page she was on. “I’m up to the intracorpular curses section – Waxe’s water dispelling hex at the moment. What’s for lunch?” 

Harry gaped and felt something in his chest tear away and break into a thousand pieces.   
Hermione was quite happy to be where she was. She wasn’t going mad with fright or pining at missing her friends.. at missing Harry. Not that he wanted her miserable or god forbid, being tortured.. but a little bit of unhappiness would be ok. 

“I have no idea” Voldemort informed her. “but if you do not like it, you can request whatever you would prefer.” 

Hermione nodded vaguely.

“After lunch I will test you on the sections you have covered today.” Voldemort added, without looking up from his own work.   
Hermione nodded again and had that vague tightness in her eyebrow that she always had when she was about to say shhhh to Ron and himself because she was trying to focus on something.   
The thought of Hermione shhhhing Voldemort was both fantastic and horrendous. He hoped she wouldn’t try it. 

At that moment a house elf popped into the room levitating two plates, two goblets and a carafe of water. Hermione looked up reluctantly as the elf placed the food upon the table. Her face brightened at the mix of seafood with Greek salad side. Voldemort had laid aside whatever he was working on and Harry turned in time to see the snake faced bastard stand and walk over to the armchair by the coffee table and seat himself. 

The elf poured the water and added a small amount of freshly squeezed lime.   
“That will be all, pluck” Voldemort said, quite pleasantly, and the elf bowed and disapparated. 

“This looks lovely” Hermione smiled, scooting up the couch to her plate.   
Harry got up off the floor and dropped himself into the other armchair, aghast by the bland normality of the scene, considering who was in it.   
He watched them eat and talk quite comfortably about spell crafting. Apparently Hermione wanted to create her own spells but was afraid that she lacked creativity or might somehow accidentally kill herself. 

Harry was just surprised that Voldemort apparently ate..human.. food. He’d imagined that the man lived on a diet of blood and beetles or something. Watching him chew on a stick of carrot thoughtfully as he explained the processes of spell design to an absolutely absorbed Hermione was distressing.   
Soon enough he was asking Hermione questions about the first five chapters of the book she had been reading.   
It was apparently a book of pretty dark hexes.   
He was not sure how he felt about that.   
Not every spell Voldemort asked her about was violent and horrible, some were healing spells and others were forms of scrying but they were all pretty dark. 

Hermione was willingly learning dark magic from Voldemort. 

Of course Hermione would willingly learn anything from anyone, he tried to remind himself – and it wasn’t as if she really had a lot of choice about being here – even if she were to escape and return to Hogwarts – the headmaster was the one who had tortured and nearly killed her. Her muggle parents wouldn’t be able to protect her from him. She was probably making the best of a bad situation here, learning what she could from Voldemort.   
But why in hell was Voldemort doing this?!   
Why wasn’t she strung up in some dungeon. Why was she still alive?! 

He’d saved her from Dumbledore. It hadn’t looked like he’d just wanted to acquire her in order to hurt Harry – and to judge by what had happened since, it didn’t look like the events of his dream were about to happen anytime soon.   
He was ...looking after her.. 

And then his mind was pulled back to the events in the memory because Voldemort and Hermione seemed to be having a small argument.   
“You must test your knowledge and you will not be tossing those hexes at me, my dear. Be reasonable.” 

“I’m not torturing some poor muggle from your dungeons. I can’t!.. I..just don’t think I can do that.” 

Voldemort stood and banished their finished meals, stalking to the couch and seating himself close beside her.   
It looked overly familiar to Harry and he began to have a very small sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as the monster brushed a pale slender hand over Hermione’s hair lightly, almost delicately. 

“You wished to learn the dark arts, my dear. You must realise that the spells you are learning require practical testing and honing. You could harm yourself using them. It is best for you to attempt them in my presence, in order that I might help you should anything unexpected occur“ 

Hermione swallowed and looked embarrassed.   
“I know.. but.. please Tom.. please don’t make me hurt innocent people! At least.. not yet..” 

Harry leapt up, nearly hyperventilating. Tom?! Not hurt innocent people YET?!! Fuck!!! Fuck fuck fuck fuck!!   
What was THIS?!!..   
Hermione seemed to be pretty damn close to the fucking bastard who had killed his parents and was planning on killing him. 

He strode closer, standing shaking in shock and anger at the other side of the coffee table. 

Voldemort sighed and brushed the back of a finger down his friend’s cheek.   
“I am too lenient with you, my dear. Fine. You will test the curses on a death eater. Will that suffice?” 

Hermione looked overwhelmingly relieved. “Yes!! Thank you Tom!! I’m sorry for being ...weak.. I..-I’ll try not to be.” 

He shushed her and looked away, an expression of concentration, followed by mild disgust, washed over his serpentine face. “The man I have summoned is a murderer and rapist. He has neither family nor dependants of any sort. He is in the periphery of the outer circle and is in that sense... expendable... I will obliviate him when you are finished with him so do not hold back.” 

Hermione swallowed and nodded. She reached into her pocket and Voldemort reached over her and placed his hand on her wrist, stilling her.   
“No. the other one. That one will not respond well to this form of magic.” 

She nodded again and put her other hand into her pocket, drawing out a plain deep brown wand.   
It was not the wand that Harry had seen her using for the last six years. She swished it experimentally – confirming how new it must be for her. 

The expression on Voldemort’s face looking at it was difficult to read. He seemed conflicted, almost guilty. The look was wiped off quickly enough and a crack announced the entrance of a large heavyset man who seemed visibly overawed to be in the room he found himself in.   
He dropped heavily to his knees and bowed his head. “My Lord!! You ‘onour me. ‘ow can I-“ 

He was interrupted. “Yes. You are very lucky to be shown this favouritism, my servant. You will assist me with my novitiate today.” 

Harry swayed slightly.   
Novitiate. He wasn’t entirely sure what the word meant but it sounded like..far more than ‘taking care’ of her..

The man’s head shot up and piggy eyes flicked between Voldemort and Hermione, widening before he forced his head back down, an expression of confusion and mild lustful hope on his face. Harry wanted to kick him. 

Voldemort continued. “We have been working on her repertoire of hexes and require a candidate to test her casting upon”

The thick bullish head rose again, an expression of disbelief on his face. “You want ‘er to curse me?!” the man’s physical posture screamed that he was very much opposed to this.

Voldemort smirked. “You will submit to her curses or you will submit to mine Gorlich. The choice should be fairly simple.” 

Large shoulders bunched and the heavy head ducked further unhappily. “Yes my Lord. I’d be more’n pleased to help you out and let ‘er cast on me.” 

“Excellent” Voldemort said quietly, rising and guiding Hermione to her feet by her elbow.   
“Go and stand over there, my dear, and begin at the beginning. When you can cast each thrice without flaw, I shall consider it learned. 

Harry moved out of the way as Hermione walked toward him. He found he was actually interested in how she would do. Knowing she was cursing a death eater somehow made it almost all right again that she was using dark curses.   
He stepped back to get a better view. 

Hermione raised her wand and her face took on a darker determined expression that he had only seen before in the ministry of magic.   
Voldemort’s eyes widened and he smiled in pleasure.. 

The scene became misty and Harry was tossed out of the memory. He leapt up cursing and stamping his foot. Damn it. God fucking damn it to hell. He had wanted to see that. He threw himself back down into the armchair with a black expression.   
Hermione was quite content in Voldemort’s clutches, not even missing him and Snape was there somewhere too presumably. He hadn’t asked Voldemort for a memory with Snape, only with Hermione.   
She was learning things that he really wished he could be learning, if he was honest. Hogwarts DADA class was not really useful. It had been better with Snape teaching it but they didn’t really get to do much practical work. 

He knew that he should be happy that she was apparently quite well and even able to study.. but he wasn’t. It just made him feel worse about his own situation. And what would happen if..when.. the situation came to a head and he faced Voldemort in battle. Where would Hermione stand?!   
He tried to tell himself that she would be at his side.. but she really didn’t look like she was unhappy to be where she was – and he suspected she probably wouldn’t put herself anywhere near Dumbledore again. 

Fuck.. HE didn’t want to be near Dumbledore either. He..he wanted to be near Hermione.   
But considering where she was... 

He sighed. Living around Dumbledore was still better than dying to be near Hermione, surely.   
It wasn’t as if he actually had a choice about what side he wanted to be on. Not like the others...Malfoy.. Hermione..Snape..   
Voldemort would kill him if he got his hands on him.   
Dumbledore might be a manipulative dangerous bastard but he would keep Harry safe. 

He frowned, thinking of the Dursleys and the last six years.. Ok.. perhaps Dumbledore wouldn’t keep him..exactly.. safe.. but he’d stop him from being killed. That was something. 

Voldemort had probably sent him these memories just to try to get him to hate Dumbledore and run away.. to his death.   
It was a new tactic if that was what he was doing.. but maybe it wasn’t that different to last year when he kept emphasising how alike he and Harry were. 

It was all a trap.. all always a trap. 

At least this trap let him see Hermione though. He looked longingly at the pensieve. It was frustrating not to see how she had cursed the death eater.   
He didn’t like the way Voldemort was around her.. or the way she was around him in fact.. the way they were together.. but he wished he’d seen a bit more. He’d have to tell Malfoy to ask for more next time.   
Maybe he could..   
No.. Malfoy was a whiny little bitch. He’d been on his way to bed already before curfew. Even if he could get into the Slytherin common room and find Draco’s dormroom - He’d never get him to sneak out of the castle right now to go and see Voldemort so Harry could see more of Hermione. He could just imagine the disgusted sneer on the ferrets face if he asked him to. 

He’d have to wait till tomorrow to see him and however long it would then take for him to go and come back and find him.   
Ugh. That sucked.   
He glared at the plain white wall in front of him. Maybe he could send an owl? 

That made him laugh. Sure.. the ministry of magic was incompetent but he didn’t think they were so incompetent that they couldn’t track an owl.   
His eyes widened involuntarily. If he wanted to speak to Voldemort..there was one obvious way.. that was what it had all been about in the beginning after all.. The monster was IN his head.. the only thing keeping him out was the necklace Dumbledore gave him. He fingered it tentatively. Hermione’s... Dumbledore had cursed her for it.   
Swallowing he slid his fingers along the chain reaching for the clasp. He’d just take it off for a couple of minutes and see what happened. 

He didn’t find the clasp. Sliding the chain around, in case it had slipped down to the side he realised, alarmed, that there was no clasp. The chain was one unbroken circle.   
A nasty suspicion grew in his mind.. Dumbledore had insisted that he put it on straightaway.   
Hermione had been the only one who could take the necklace off when she wore it, to judge from the memories he’d seen.. that clearly wasn’t how it worked now. 

Experimentally he tugged at it, at first lightly and then as hard as he could. There wasn’t even the slightest suggestion that it might break and he ended up with a thin line imprinted in the back of his neck from the tugging. 

He was getting worried now.   
What if he couldn’t take it off?! It wasn’t as if he didn’t appreciate the peaceful feeling, but.. he wasn’t in control of his own head this way.   
Dumbledore had got him to put something on.. and seeing what the man was capable of.. he began to worry. 

If this wasn’t the same necklace.. or at least wasn’t the same chain that Hermione was wearing – then what else might it be capable of. He wouldn’t put it past Dumbledore to strangle him with it if he disobeyed.   
This was bad.   
Telling himself that he didn’t know what the headmaster was like when he’d put it on didn’t change the basic fact that a psychopath had convinced him to put on an enchanted necklace. 

He drew his wand and tried a few cutting hexes and burning hexes.. none were at all effective and the burning hexes just caused the chain to heat and burn the back of his neck. 

He felt a dark pool of panic welling up inside. What could he do?! Just go on as if nothing was wrong?   
He had to, didn’t he?!   
As terrible as Dumbledore might be, Voldemort was worse. He was killing people.. trying to take over the ministry.. the entire wizarding world. He was a madman! A Monster! 

His eye drifted uneasily to the pensieve.   
Voldemort hadn’t been acting particularly monstrous as he ate scallops and gave Hermione the basics of spell design.   
He was teaching her..   
She was a muggleborn – shouldn’t he be killing her? In the dream he’d...   
Harry furrowed his brow abruptly. 

He’d pulled Harry off her and restrained him then raped her and.. and branded his name into her. 

At the time he’d been horrified and beyond reason but..thinking about it.. he hadn’t really hurt her much.. He had seemed mostly preoccupied with what he was doing more than its effect on Harry.   
He’d written his name on her.. branded her.. but if it had been for the pain he might as well have just burned lines into her..   
He’d written his name. That was...weird. Like marking her as a possession.   
And in the first set of memories he’d sent.. the way Hermione had clung to his legs.. the way he’d carried her and then rocked and stroked her hair in the bathroom..   
In the memory from today he’d touched her in a very familiar kind of way too. 

The thought forming in his mind was too appalling to even fully articulate.. Hermione would never... 

To dismiss the fear building in his heart he dipped his finger into the pensieve again. He didn’t have enough to go on to leap to that kind of crazy conclusion. She wasn’t.. They weren’t.. 

He tumbled down into the memory and examined Hermione’s relaxed demeanour curled into the corner of the couch. 

Voldemort was writing, focused. The top of his smooth white head was visible. He wasn’t even watching her. He just took for granted that she wouldn’t hex him.. and Harry remembered that the end of the memory clearly showed that she had at least one wand in her pocket.   
What the hell?! 

He rushed over to the dark wizard’s side quickly, peering over his shoulder to see what he was writing. It seemed to be in another language, whatever it was. Or maybe a code. Probably a code.. there were numbers and runes in some of the words. He stood back and watched.. really paid attention to.. the rest of the memory.   
The casual comments... and then their discussion over lunch.. it was all behaviour of two people who were comfortable with each other. Voldemort didn’t look at all on guard.   
And he was...nice..to her. Really nice, compared to every other time Harry had seen him. 

And then.. that touch.. He hadn’t been paying close enough attention to the way Voldemort looked at Hermione last time, he’d been too busy being upset over the whole situation but he realised now that the man looked at the girl Harry loved with actual fondness. He was ..doting.. on her. She said she didn’t want to do something and he acquiesced and gave her what she wanted. 

This was insane! Voldemort could not possibly ..fancy.. Hermione. That was just stupid on so many levels.   
He wouldn’t.   
SHE wouldn’t..   
it couldn’t happen.   
He felt sick as he watched the pleased..possessive..expression on the snakelike face as Hermione raised her new wand.. that was another thing – he’d given her a new wand?! She’d obviously been reaching for the other pocket before he told her to use this wand instead. Did she have two now?! Why?! 

He was tossed back out as the memory ended and felt even more sick than the first time. There was something not right between the girl he loved and his mortal enemy. And there was no way for him to find out more right now. 

He sat in the chair pensively staring at the wall for most of the night, his thoughts circling the things he’d seen. It wasn’t until the wee small hours of the morning that he finally dropped off, waking only a few hous later with a crick in his neck from the chair. 

He needed to know more. He had to find Malfoy before breakfast!


	16. Chapter 16

Hermione was curled around the body of the greatest wizard alive, feeling conflicted. 

He was pleased right now – the quiet satisfaction radiated off him -   
..She wasn’t so pleased. 

About a quarter of the way through all the curses she’d learned today she’d lost control of a tricky strangulation hex and.. and..   
the sound as the head hit the flagstones was echoing in her head.   
It was a kind of meaty crack.   
His head..   
his head had come off..   
and then blood..   
oh god.. it was terrible. She’d killed him! She killed someone today! For the first time and it was horrible. She didn’t want to ever do it again. 

Why had she wanted to learn this anyway?! What was she doing?!! She should be back at Hogwarts with Harry.. 

The realities of that impossible situation slid back into her mind uncomfortably, along with the attached bright glowing feeling that Tom had saved her. 

He seemed so..content that she’d killed that man. It didn’t bother him at all – he almost looked like he’d expected it when she turned to him in shock, unable to even move. He’d vanished the body as if it were nothing and then gone to her, swept her up into his arms and brought her back to the couch.   
He’d been stroking her hair and comforting her for an hour now.   
She didn’t feel any better about what she’d done. 

She couldn’t remember his name. Had Tom told her?!   
It was just..inhuman..to kill someone accidentally and not even know their name. 

Was accidentally even the right word?! She’d been cursing the man for two hours already. She’d..tortured him. 

“Shhhh.. You didn’t” came the soft voice above her head.   
He was listening to her thoughts. She struggled to try to occlude. He didn’t like it when she was loud.   
She gasped as strong arms abruptly lifted her at the shoulders so that he could see into her face. 

“Never.. never.. think that, Hermione! I always wish to hear you....occlude before others but do not do so for me. I enjoy your mind.. in fact I consider it one of my greater pleasures. I did not intend to snap at you this morning. I regret it. Do stop shutting me out now..” 

She bit her lip uncertainly and lowered her eyes. She wasn’t any good. She’d failed.. she’d k-killed one of his servants because of her incompetence. Because she was weak.   
A kiss was pressed gently to her temple.   
“You are not weak, my dear.. you are simply innocent and so very young. The state of your mind now reminds me of my own panic at accidentally killing for the first time.   
That was a very long time ago and I doubt history would record it even if any other knew of it. 

Hermione lifted her gaze curiously. The crimson eyes were fixed on her but there was a faint softness far far behind them of an uncomfortable memory.   
She wanted to know but.. asking him about his feelings wasn’t well received last time so she tried to push her curiosity down. 

The grip on her shoulders loosened and she sank back to his chest, resting her head on him, feeling the slow rise and fall of his breathing. She held him more tightly.   
“I’m sorry” she whispered.   
The hand stroking her hair stilled and cupped the back of her head “It is quite alright, Hermione. I told you that the man was expendable. He really wasn’t worthy of your remorse.   
If you knew of some of the things he has done you would consider your accident a relatively humane execution.   
His name was Aramel Gorlich, incidentally. He is survived by no one. He did have a wife but killed her some years ago - while she was pregnant with his offspring.   
As I recall it was over something trifling. She had burned his dinner or burned his shirt or something of that ilk. It was a matter of no import and I do not recall.   
He enjoyed torturing and killing, Hermione. He was a paedophile. He was useful only in projecting the image of viciousness for which the death eaters are feared.   
It is true that he was obedient – loyal only to me – it was purely because I enabled him to satisfy his desires while the wizarding world would have given him the kiss years, possibly decades, ago.   
He took care of distasteful jobs since he was entirely unsuitable for use in interrogation - the retrieval of information was always secondary to his lust for inflicting pain.   
He was a sadist – which I could accept - what rendered him worthless in my estimation was the fact that he was a particularly obtuse and crude man. Do not mourn him.” 

She nodded against the hard chest, still feeling miserable. The hand on her head moved to stroke down her back gently and Tom’s voice was softer when he spoke next   
“You performed well. That particular curse is somewhat tricky. I have seen others make that error with it.. It requires precise control and grading – which is impossible unless you have used it and become familiar with its strength and power differential. You will have to practice it more, in order to be able to use it to full effect – it can be very useful if applied well. More useful than pain curses in fact, if you are patient enough. The feeling of suffocation is very persuasive. If you slowly increase the curse, almost all vict..targets will surrender whatever it is you are in pursuit of.   
And it leaves no identifying marks – which can also be desirable. You do not have to heal a target you are obliviating.   
It is sensitive enough to use on...weaker specimens also..” 

Hermione frowned. Weaker specimens. “Do you mean children?!” she questioned suspiciously.   
The chest beneath her cheek paused in its slow movement.   
“..and the elderly or physically infirm” he confirmed. 

At that she did lift her head and frown at the man beneath her. He raised his eyebrows and smirked faintly.   
“Oh come..do not tell me you are already imagining me to be a kind and decent fellow, Hermione?! There are circumstances in which such individuals may have information one requires and may also be disinclined to provide it freely. In time you will see that utilizing such a curse can be considered merciful.. in light of the available alternatives.   
And clearly you wish to avoid harming the innocent.. or those you perceive from a simplistic perspective to be innocent, at least.” 

She felt her hackles go up. “Children are innocent! The prisoners in your dungeons are probably mostly innocent. There are innocent people! You called me innocent a minute ago!” 

Tom smiled, amused. “Innocence itself is rather a relative thing, my dear. You are quite innocent in comparison with say... myself.. or Severus..or perhaps even Draco Malfoy.. however you are not nearly as innocent as most of the friends that you willingly betrayed in order to buy access to my tutelage and... other favours.”   
She felt her eyes widen at the implication and the Dark Lord chuckled darkly, continuing “As for children.. that too is rather relative. I myself harmed other children for the first time at the tender age of four, as the matron at my orphanage informed me – I was ‘a bad seed’ apparently.   
I know that young Malfoy still remembers drowning Pansy Parkinson’s kitten at her fifth birthday party because he himself was not allowed one and because the girl had refused to allow him to play with it.” 

“Incidentally - I’ve always found it fascinating the way the Parkinson girl slavishly adores him despite the countless cruelties that the boy has shown her over the years. Rather a pathetic little creature. I recruited her based purely upon her loyalty to Malfoy. She actually possesses no skills or abilities of practical use – Nevertheless, I have no doubt that she will do anything to protect him.   
That kind of blind devotion can be leveraged – even if it is not to me directly. Malfoy is quite a valuable little pawn.” 

Hermione blinked and smiled crookedly at the chalk white inhuman face chatting quite amiably to her about things she seriously doubted he discussed with others. It was actually flattering. She felt..a strange diffuse sense of hope.   
Tom seemed to realise it at that moment too and frowned faintly before leaning forward and pressing a light kiss above her right eyebrow.   
“Well.. at least you have recovered from your bout of self recrimination. I believe I have veered some distance off my point – which was that innocence is a relative and not an absolute property. I could take you down to the dungeons right now and I guarantee that we would not find a single absolutely innocent person.. even among the children..” 

“You have children in your dungeon?!!” Hermione gasped. “Why?! What could they possibly have done!? Wh..” she petered out as realisation struck. They hadn’t done anything.. Tom had said that the Gorlich man she’d k..well.. him anyway – he’d said that he was a paedophile. Perhaps there were more of them in his service. Perhaps that was why he had children in his dungeons.   
The smooth face nodded once, crimson eyes appraising her reaction. “It is not the only reason. There are some potions ingredients that..” He stopped seeing her pale and continued on tangentially “and in most cases they are there simply because they were acquired along with a party of others.”   
Hermione nodded tightly. She leaned into the hand that stroked down her cheek gently. 

“I had assumed you realised what you were doing when you came to me, Hermione.. I did not imagine you would be quite this disturbed by the general affairs in my domain. You are an intelligent girl.. and you have learned of many incidents involving my servants, I believe?! You have had the opportunity to read several darker potions text – where did you think that ingredients such as fresh human endocrine gland or fresh human bile came from?”

She bit her lip uneasily. “I...know it..or.. I knew it in a distant objective sense.. but it’s not the same as... or..”   
she frowned at the tangle in her head.   
“I’m confused” she admitted softly. “I have a lot of conflicting viewpoints at the moment. And guilt I guess..” 

Tom sighed “I have noticed... However I am quite certain that that will settle in time. In the meantime I will..try to tolerate..your moral outbursts.”   
She felt him delve slender fingers into the hair at the back of her head, running them through it a short way before tangling. He smiled genuinely, his eyes creasing as he tightened his hand to a fist and urged her forward into his kiss. The cool lips upon hers were always a surprise when her mind expected them to be warmer. She gave herself over to the kiss automatically, closing her eyes and moaning as his tongue slipped against and teased her own.   
When he released her after a minute she felt noticeably dazed and heated and leaned in wanting to resume the pleasant activity, her hands sliding down to his robe fastenings.   
His hand on her own stopped her before she could reach them. 

“Unfortunately I must shortly leave for a meeting. There will not be sufficient time for that right now – you will have to wait.” 

She groaned and dropped her forehead to his chest, feeling the small movement of his soft laugh.   
“I take it you would prefer I delayed my meeting for your pleasure?” 

She sighed and shook her head, not raising her forehead from the smooth silky material of his robes. When a fingertip stroked down her spine she couldn’t help shivering and wishing vehemently that he didn’t have to go right now..   
She gasped and panted shallowly when his lips moved over the curve of her ear, his breath ghosting over the sensitive organ as one hand gripped the back of her neck lightly and the other skated down her side. “Oh God..” she murmured needily. “please..stay”   
She felt the smirk.   
“And what will you do in return, my dear?” 

She groaned. Stupid question. What did he want now?! The nip of his teeth on the sensitive part of her neck had her shuddering in pleasure.   
“Anything.. what do you want..” she whispered, her hands moving anew to the fastening of his robes. 

His lips at her ear murmured “I want you to master that spell by the time I return. and you will train on a prisoner this time.” 

She frowned and didn’t respond to the offer even though she moaned as he sucked her ear lobe gently.   
“You should agree” he prompted her, in between sucking on that sensitive spot on her neck and trailing his cool tongue over the throb of her carotid artery.   
She turned her head automatically like a plant seeking sunlight. “mmm ok..” she mumbled fumbling at his robe with clumsy hands.   
A moment later he must have vanished their clothes because there was cool skin beneath her and his fingertips moving over her back were positively intoxicating. 

Somehow he rolled them both in place on the sofa and she found herself beneath the pale hard body, the strangely hypnotic crimson gaze roving over her body appreciatively.   
He traced a fingertip around the ring of her aureole and her nipples stood painfully as if on command.   
The lazy smirk on the serpentine face made her blush.   
“Always so responsive..” he murmured and leaned down over her flicking a cool pointed tongue over the nipple he had been circling.   
She moaned and arched into him. It felt like quenching a fire and starting one at the same time. “More..” she whimpered. 

He moved slightly and then she felt his upper thigh pressed against her pubic bone. She couldn’t help rubbing against it slightly as he suckled upon her nipple, his hand stroking over her other breast.   
For all his declared lateness Tom spent a long time teasing and nibbling at her breasts while subtly encouraging her to rut helplessly against his leg, moving it away from her whenever she started to climb toward climax. His hard cock slid over her hipbone silkily all the while. No matter how she writhed and tried to shift she couldn’t get near it.   
After a while she was whining and begging him mindlessly “Please.. please.. Tom.. oh god.. please.. need you..” But he still didn’t let her reach him.. still didn’t put his cock where she so desperately wanted it.   
Instead he kissed his way down her body swiftly till he could lie between her splayed legs and then the merciless teasing continued till she was almost crying out in need. His cool tongue slid and flickered everywhere but where she most wanted it, heightening her arousal but not providing relief.   
She wanted to use her fingers to relieve the frustration but knew without a doubt that if she even moved them toward her pussy she’d find herself bound or worse.   
Bucking and shifting her pelvis didn’t help. He didn’t restrain her but when she moved he would draw back for a second in punishment.   
Finally almost weeping in desperation she whimpered “PLEASE!! My Lord.. please.. I can’t take any more.. please! Please.”   
The sudden swipe of the flat of his tongue made her come immediately, crying out at the overwhelming force of unexpected sensation. 

And then the torment continued as he didn’t stop.. but instead restrained her through her cries and pleading, continuing to stimulate her oversensitive clitoris till he’d pushed her to two more climaxes with his tongue alone.   
Her head reeled mazedly and she blinked, somewhat disorientated in the wake of the last rush of endorphins, as he moved up her body and captured her mouth.   
The taste was tangy and sweet and not entirely unpleasant she registered dimly, as the length of his hard body pressed against her. It felt automatic to wrap her legs about his hips even though the gentle sliding motions of his hard cock through the slick of her pussy made her jerk and shift oversensitively. 

When he shifted and then stabbed down, penetrating her suddenly and deeply she gasped and arched in shock, even as he dropped his head to her neck, groaning in satisfaction.   
He hadn’t prepared her with his fingers and despite how dripping wet she had been, it was a tight stretch. She hissed in slight discomfort as he pulled back and plunged into her again, slow and deep.   
He raised his head slightly and looked into her face with pupils so dilated that they were like black circles. The slits that served as his nose widened for a moment and he closed his eyes, a smile curving his lips before hissing something in parseltongue that sounded suspiciously like an expletive.   
He began to move in her more quickly just as her oversensitivity gave way to arousal and she used her legs around him to move her hips, rocking into the delicious thrusts, as she slid her arms from his back up to his neck, pulling him down into her kiss. His low groan of pleasure and the slightly erratic speeding of his movement told her how much he liked that. 

She wasn’t prepared for him to slide his hand between them and flick her clitoris with the pad of his thumb. It took only a few moments before she was overcome. The pleasure was so much more when he was inside her moving and her overwrought cry was muffled by his mouth. She could feel his smirk against her lips. He hadn’t come yet. He had stilled within her, mercifully, as her entire pussy throbbed in overstimulation and he pulled away from her lips and looked down at her with a dark satisfied expression.   
“You do realise, I could make you come like this for hours, my dear.. and that is without the use of magic.. If I were to use magic I could do so much more.. Enhance the strength and duration of your release severalfold.. lengthen my endurance to days..   
Were I to utilise dark magic.. I could force you to come on command, irrespective what I might happen to be doing to you... or not doing to you. Or.. as you saw with poor disobedient Bella.. I could deny you any sexual pleasure whatsoever.   
There are a great many other things I might do for fun. How would you like to orgasm every time you see a book? What about whenever a common word is spoken in your presence.. Or... perhaps every time you see the colour red? That would be amusing if I brought you to a revel..” 

Hermione, regaining her breath, gazed up at him with the tinge of fear edging into her mind. The thought of coming over and over for hours was frightening enough at this point.. nevermind all the rest of..that.. She shook her head slightly. “please don’t” she whispered. 

He snorted and kissed her lightly on the lips.   
“Turn over, my delicious little novitiate..” he murmured against her cheek, withdrawing from her to kneel back on his heels, straddling her calves, his hard cock slick and shiny with her juices. 

Her fear spiked massively. He wasn’t going to... She swallowed apprehensively, looking up at the beautiful body attractively displayed, each muscle defined and balanced. \

Tom tilted his head questioningly, and he didn’t need to say ‘what are you still doing on your back when I have instructed you to position yourself otherwise’ – the slight threat was implicit. 

Biting her lip, she rolled and turned herself carefully till she was on her stomach. She felt nothing for a few moments as her worry grew and then his tongue swiped quite rapidly up her spine, causing a massive full body shudder in pleasure.   
“Oh god..” she gasped.   
His hand moved her hair to the side and then he was nibbling on her neck gently, making her writhe beneath his body, even as his hands reached beneath her and cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples between his first and second fingers. She could only purr in delight.   
He spoke softly below her ear.   
“Do not worry...what you fear will not happen..today..” he emphasised the distinction and the frisson of fear skated over her nerves again.   
His voice in her ear sounded faintly amused -“Why do you fear it so when you have never tried it? How do you know you will not enjoy it?” -he whispered teasingly. 

She swallowed and answered honestly, focusing with difficulty through the enticing action of his hands and mouth. “I..read that it is painful...and.. :avender was making jokes about how much it hurt once.”

Tom hmmed above her. The vibration tickled. He responded “It can be painful..but I will ensure you enjoy it when I decide to take your final innocence. You will enjoy it ...immensely.. trust me..”   
At that he moved away, his hands sliding down the sides of her body to rest on her hips. He pulled her gently up till she knelt and stroked over her skin as if petting some kind of animal.   
She half turned, uneasily, when his hand brushed down over her ass, his thumb delving between her buttocks. “Beautiful” he whispered.   
She saw him reach down and then felt his cock being positioned at her entrance again. It felt somehow..larger.. this way.   
His blood red eyes flicked up to her briefly before he began to press carefully forward, stretching her anew and sliding into her slick prepared channel. 

She turned back to face ahead, stretching her arms out slightly before her and trying to press backward into him, but his hands held her firmly in place, unable to move as he slowly slid in.   
He felt a lot longer this way too, she found, as his hard length stabbed slowly against her cervix, creating a slightly painful pressure. She bit her lip and lowered her head, her hair falling around her face.

When he started to move in and out quickly it hurt more and she clenched her eyes against it. It felt like he was stabbing her womb with each thrust. She fisted her hands into the couch.   
Whether he thought this meant she was enjoying it or whether he was enjoying her pain, he increased the power of his hips, slapping into her hard and she couldn’t prevent a whimper from escaping.   
At the sound of it he sped up, fucking her hard and fast but when she started to silently cry at the pain, her face hidden behind her hair, abruptly he stopped and leaned over her, enfolding her in his arms. “Shhhh... shhh... Its alright” he murmured. “I... don’t cry... “   
She felt him withdraw from her body, still hard and then he collapsed next to her, turning her and wrapping her in his arms as she willingly curled into his chest.   
“I’m sorry” she said, trying to stop the tears.   
He stroked her hair. “No.. I.. Hermione..” he hesitated for long moments and she looked up at the blurry conflicted expression on the pale unnaturally flat face. He seemed to decide to go on with what he had wanted to say. “I told you that Gorlich was a sadist. ...I am a sadist also.” A frown crossed his face like a cloud over the sun on a windy day. “At least...normally.. I am a sadist.. I had thought you realised as much in the shower this morning. ..Unaccountably I find I do not desire your suffering at present.   
Your whimpers were pleasing to me..I quite forgot myself for a moment until I heard your mind – heard you in pain telling yourself to hide your tears for me. For some reason.. I find I do not wish to make you weep... at least not right now.”   
He looked at her with a bemused, troubled mien. “This..concern.. is not normal for me. I don’t quite understand it.” 

She swallowed, her head against the still, unnaturally cool chest. After a minute of silence she looked up at him tentatively. “I..I want to please you. If you want to hurt me.. I’ll.. well..its fine.” 

The man next to her snorted and smiled a strange smile. “There is an old joke, Hermione.. I doubt you’ve heard it. -Said the masochist to the sadist ‘hurt me, beat me, do whatever you want to me! Anything! Scar me, torture me!’ Said the sadist in response ‘no.’” 

She frowned, understanding but not understanding. 

Tom chuckled next to her and leaned down, placing a gentle kiss at the corner of her lips. “You are so young.. I thank you for your explicit permission..my little innocent. Do not doubt that on occasion I may very well choose to enjoy your pain – and I shall remind you of how you declared it quite acceptable.” He smirked darkly and stroked a smooth finger down her back, his expression softening slightly. “you are..so..lovely, my dear. So fresh and sweet. Delightful.”   
The hand on her back slid to her side and stroked down over her hip to her thigh, gripping it lightly and lifting it over his own waist, opening her once more. She looked down and saw that his cock that had wilted for a time was hardening again.   
He trailed his fingers down her abdomen, over the curly fine hairs on her pubis and through her pussy, finding her still quite wet. She couldn’t help moving against his fingers when he penetrated her with two, pumping them in and out of her slowly. He removed them and brought them to her mouth. “Suck..” he instructed. She parted her lips and took them in, sucking at the tart taste and running the tip of her tongue over his fingers.   
As she was looking at him she could actually see his narrow slitted pupils dilate as his breathing rate increased. It was amazing to see the effect she could have on this powerful man. He could probably kill her with a thought.   
His voice was slightly husky when he spoke. “On your knees again, little one. This time I will take care with you. I wish you to come to enjoy this position as I do.”   
He withdrew his fingers slowly from her mouth, as she sucked them hard.   
“Mmm.. tempting, little minx. I will have your mouth later.. now.. move. Offer yourself to me as I desire.” 

She rolled next to him and got up onto her knees. He moved lazily, raising himself up and getting to his own knees behind her.

 

 

Severus raised the tiny phial to the light, tilting it and considering the opalescence of the purple contents. It looked like it was still very potent. Perhaps it could be marginally pearlier.. but it would be quite adequate. It might not last as long however. He’d have to use it at the best time to make sure he didn’t waste any of the effects. And.. he’d have to get to brewing some more.   
Might as well begin the non-spoiling ingredients immediately, he mused and flicked his wand at the walls summoning the earthenwear pots he would need. 

The small pots held enlargement charms and were replenished via cornucopia charm automatically from various potions stores under anonymous accounts. It was most convenient. It meant that unless there was a general shortage of an ingredient in the market, he would never run out of anything. So much easier than his potions set up at Hogwarts. 

He’d left the scientists a half hour ago. They were all playing with the pensieve into which he’d placed each of their memories of the relevant technology and facilities. They were going to discuss together which objects they would like and how the room might best be set up based on aspects of the facilities they knew.   
He had had Tibby set up a doorway to a closed corridor with their individual bedrooms and the communal bathroom and had informed them that dinner would appear later and that he would return tomorrow for their decision on the room.   
Later on the other five scientists would join them. He had delegated Takiuchi responsible for greeting and explaining matters to the newcomers and had left him with five translation charms since he had no idea who would be coming.   
After a stern warning to all not to bicker amongst themselves along national lines, he had departed, feeling relieved as he’d apparated out and into his own potions laboratory. 

Theoretically, after the facility was constructed by Ketta, he would put in a corridor between the cloning laboratory and his own potions laboratory and the scientists would be able to come and speak with him when they had an issue.   
He was not looking forward to it.   
In fact he already wanted to hex the mouthy American who just seemed to have a bad effect on the others. Calling the Dark Lord a mutant and an alien.. He sniggered. Soon enough, he was certain, that man would be hanging by his thumbs in the dungeon. 

He set the walnut shell to grinding and took up the lemonwood bark, preparing the vinegar bath for it. He selected three of the largest soft shell crabs from the tank and put them in a bucket with two litres of water, into which he added the proportionate measure of doxy venom. The crabs thrashed and expired quickly. They would need to sit for six hours to allow the venom infused liquid to penetrate their flesh completely and convert the lining of their shell to the compound he needed. 

He was just about to start shelling the sessalian seeds when he felt his mark tingle. That was interesting. It hadn’t activated like that in.. well.. in a very long time, at any rate. Normally it just burned like hell. The Dark Lord must be in a very good mood to have chosen not to hurt him right now.   
He laid aside the seed pods immediately and swiped up the purple potion, unsealing it and tossing back the entire amount. It would not do to keep the Dark Lord waiting after such a gentle summons.   
Shuddering in pain as the violent tingling erupted over his entire body, he braced himself on the potions bench and clenched his eyes shut. It lasted for only half a minute or so before it abated swiftly and he felt quite well again. 

His robes were a little loose and he flicked his wand, adjusting them slightly. He didn’t want to make them too tight for the time when the potion would wear off, but he could adjust the cut to cache the discrepancy in their fit and his current body.   
He felt...good... he noticed. He had energy that he hadn’t noticed himself lacking before. It was quite pleasant. 

A very faint burn in his mark suggested to him that the Dark Lord was getting impatient and he apparated immediately, touching his wand to it. 

He reappeared in the great hall. His Lord was sitting on the black throne with a mildly irritated expression that changed immediately into one of shock.   
For a moment he felt worried but the slight twist of the man’s lips then informed him that it was a pleasant shock. He dropped to his knees immediately, looking up at the serpentine face and trying to see his master’s true face behind it.   
It was difficult.. hairless, pale white, noseless and crimson-eyed, he looked so different and.. yes.. alien – the yank wasn’t entirely incorrect.   
But he had to find the beautiful face he remembered in this one somehow. He had to adjust his perception. He would have only one chance, he suspected. 

“A clever move, my servant” the Dark Lord observed approvingly. “-to try to temp me into changing my mind with a younger form. This is not how you appeared when I took you.. but it cannot be many years after that point, I imagine. You look like a man in his late twenties. It...suits you.” 

Severus raised his head tentatively. “I..could not age back to twenty two, my Lord. The potion I had in store was of a strength only suitable for a ten year shift. I am..about twenty seven at present. I will brew more. The strength can be improved. Perhaps also the..duration..”   
He looked into the crimson eyes hopefully. “It pleases you...Master?” 

Lord Voldemort beckoned him closer and gestured at the floor next to his feet. Severus moved to him quickly, kneeling there and looking up, his lank hair falling into his eyes. A pale hand brushed it gently to the side and he wet his lips nervously.   
The features familiar to him only on the other end of a wand cursing him were soft and the red eyes glinted in the dim firelight.

“Yes. It pleases me, Severus.” He said finally, seemingly after consideration. “You were..you are an attractive youth. Work on the potion. Enhance its present capabilities so that I might see again the boy I once desired.” 

A rush of relief flooded through him. He was not being rejected out of turn. It seemed he still possessed the chance to persuade his master to allow him back into the bedroom where he might share Hermione, if he was cautious and took care not to come between them.   
He hesitated and then placed a hand absent many of the scars he was familiar with, gently on the robed knee before him. “May I...”   
He was stopped by a cold hand over his own and blinked, forcing himself to remain calm.

The Dark Lord smirked and then made a vague gesture at himself, obviously throwing up a glamour. The painfully beautiful face he feared in the back of his mind swam into view superimposing the pale noseless one. This image affected him viscerally. He couldn’t help the faint whine in the back of his throat looking up at the man. “Please!..” he whispered. “I..” his voice broke even as his mind was screaming out “I want to be Yours!! Please don’t send me away.. anything for you!! Anything!! Don’t send me away again. I’ll.. I’ll put up a better fight next time.. I’ll please you more.. i’ll...anything.. I need you. I’m sorry.. whatever I did.. please my Lord.” The pain of being sent out of the man’s bedroom and ignored felt fresh in his chest. 

Obviously the Dark Lord heard his mind, since the smile widened slightly. He leaned closer, stroking fingers over Severus’ cheeks, along his jaw and tilting his head up.   
“You are remarkably shallow, aren’t you, my servant?!” He smirked at him, leaning closer still.   
Severus couldn’t keep his breath from speeding at his pure proximity. He wanted him to kiss him.. he desperately wanted to taste his lips again.

“I’m sorry, master.. yes.. perhaps.. I can’t help it.. i’m sorry. I’ll try to be less so” he babbled, having difficulty reeling-in his mind. 

The beautiful Dark Lord chuckled low, running a thumb along his sharp jaw again. “I suppose it matters little.. If you are successful in your little project then I shall soon wear this face permanently.   
I expect Hermione will occasionally request I glamour myself into my current form.. she does seem to like it. No doubt she will miss it.” 

Severus listened and stared and tried to focus. Hermione. Yes. He wanted Hermione, didn’t he? Yes. Of course. But.. but right now he wanted the man in front of him more. He couldn’t even compare the two.

“You desire me more than the girl?” the soft voice enquired, pleased. 

He nodded desperately. “Yes.. I desire you more than any other, my Lord. All the years... only ever you.” The surprise on the attractive face seemed only to enhance its beauty and he whimpered, edging closer. 

“I truly broke you, didn’t I, Severus. I confess that I had never realised the extent to which I had conquered you. I watched you become harder and colder in the wake of your dismissal and thought it a useful adaptation.. but perhaps I might have released you too hastily.”   
Severus felt a stab of hope in his heart. The Dark Lord regretted hurting him so deeply? It seemed too good to be true. He forced himself not to allow the fleeting hope that he was more important to the man than a spy and a potions master. Raising his eyes he found himself inches away from his master, who had leaned closer still. 

“You think I cared nothing for you, Severus? Perhaps I convinced myself it was so.. It seems I certainly convinced you it was so. But if I truly thought nothing of you – you would be dead.. just as every single lover I have ever taken, with the exception of my new apprentice.   
I allowed you to live, little potions master – and you were not, at that point, irreplaceable.” He closed the gap and pressed cool lips against Severus own, who responded eagerly, his mouth moving over the Dark Lord’s and his mind unwinding completely.   
When the Dark Lord pulled back after several minutes they were both panting and Severus had wound his arms around the other mans neck. He looked up into unfocused crimson eyes and a faint smile. The glamour had fallen partially and the pale white skin and eyes were showing through even as the hair and nose held strong. It wasn’t a bad look, Severus considered.   
A thumb brushed over his bottom lip and he wanted to suck it. He.. there was something else he wanted to suck actually. 

Seeing the direction of his thoughts the man above him leaned back on the throne, smirking. Severus needed no further encouragement and had the black silken robe unfastened and his Lord’s cock freed in less than thirty seconds. He veritably pounced upon the half hard cock, sucking it to attention and then working it masterfully until his Lord was panting and groaning beneath him, his hands clenched on the arms of the throne. He didn’t dare to tease him for long but made sure that his climax was earth-shakingly intense, with every trick he had learned over the years, bar anal penetration. That, too, he was not quite daring enough to attempt at present on this man. He suspected that his Lord was never..ever.. a bottom in these affairs.   
When the spasms abated and he had swallowed every drop avidly, he cleaned and replaced his master’s organ, without thinking, refastening the robes and kneeling low, resting his head on the hard thigh next to him. 

He risked a glance up. The Dark Lord’s glamour had fallen completely in his distraction and he was now resting his serpentine-featured head back on the throne with his eyes closed and a faint smile on his face.   
“That was..eminently satisfying, Severus” he murmured, reaching a hand forward to the head laying against his thigh and stroking through his hair. 

Severus closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling and trying to reconcile in his mind that this appearance was part of the other man he worshipped, and not that the other face was but a glamour over this man that he feared.   
Obviously hearing him, his master, apparently extremely relaxed at present, responded “complete your project quickly and you shall not see this visage again, my servant. In fact - I am ready to hear your report on that subject.” 

The Dark Lord made no move to open his eyes, sit up or dismiss Severus to the floor of the great hall, so Severus gave him the report on the day’s work from his position leaning against the man’s thigh with his hand gently stroking through his hair. It felt strange.. as if he were a cat. He heard the faint sniff of amusement and the hand moved to scratch him lightly behind his ear. To his chagrin it actually felt quite satisfying and the snort that came this time was louder and, he imagined, accompanied by a smirk. 

After he had finished the briefing there was silence for a minute. His head was bowed in the meantime and the Dark Lord was rubbing his neck.   
He mused aimlessly on how it might be if the talented hand were to apply itself to his shoulders and back.. how it might be to lay with the man in this form?.. From his memory of the time waking up in his bed with Hermione, it was only his master’s face that had become..unusual.. the rest of him looked, if anything, even more perfectly constructed than ever.   
He growled in pleasure as the hand on his neck moved down to rub the muscles at the apex of shoulder and neck. It was so relaxing.   
The soft voice above him jilted him out of his mild stupor and he listened attentively. “I wish you to find a way to permanently remain in a youthened state, Severus. As you preferentially desire my original form, I believe I prefer you in this state. As an added benefit to your finding such a method – you will also be able to preserve me in the age you desire... Would you like that?” 

The question wasn’t one really and Severus nodded against his master’s leg, while his hand teased away the knots in Severus’ shoulder muscles.   
“Mmm... yes” he mumbled, feeling extremely relaxed. 

“Good.” The Dark Lord responded soothingly. “Tomorrow, Hermione will come and spend part of the day with your muggle zoo and you. You were right. She may perhaps be of assistance. I will see whether I can spare some time to spend with you both. The rest of the day she will be reading and practicing her hexes. She is working through Aestor’s compendium at present.” 

Severus’ head shot up. “You left her working through that book?!! But-“

The frown on the Dark Lord’s face stopped him and he swallowed and tried to suppress the urgent need he suddenly felt to check that she was ok.

“No, Severus. I would not leave her to work through the book alone. I observed her complete the first quarter of the book with proficiency this morning. She had some difficulty with a gradiated strangulation hex and so she is practicing that hex – and only that hex- at present. 

Severus hoisted a brow. It felt somehow different on this face, as if he hadn’t trained the muscles for it as much.. or as if the skin lacked the proper folds in the right places to facilitate it.   
“Difficulty?” he enquired, resisting a small smirk.   
A large smirk appeared on the Dark Lord’s face. “Yes.. she popped Gorlich’s head off accidentally.” 

Severus, surprised though he was that the Dark Lord would let her train upon his own men..couldn’t help but snigger softly. He had despised Gorlich anyway.   
“I imagine that did not go over well then.” 

The Dark Lord struggled to suppress the smirk that threatened to become a grin. “No.. she wept for him actually. I had to spend over an hour comforting her. Still.. The first is the worst, as they say – Hopefully, now it will become easier over time to motivate her to practice the more lethal hexes.” 

Severus nodded, unsure whether that was a good thing. Hermione was so innocent in many ways. It might be sad to watch that innocence slip away.   
“Who is she training on now, then?” he asked absently, hoping it was someone like Gorlich. The response that she was using a prisoner surprised him. The Dark Lord smirked again.

“As you say – she is so very innocent... She bargained for me to delay the meeting I “needed to leave for”. Hence you find me here three quarters of an hour later than I had intended to meet you, and vastly mellower than I otherwise would have been, while she no longer has any excuse to refuse prisoners as targets.” 

The Dark Lord frowned suddenly. Severus felt his nerves spring to alert automatically. He couldn’t very well ask ‘what is it?!’ – he might be allowed to suck the man’s cock now but he doubted that that degree of familiarity would be tolerated.   
“Draco” the Dark Lord offered absently. “He was here yesterday and took a gift to Potter for me.” 

At his politely questioning stare, his master continued accommodatingly. “Memories, Severus. I offered Potter the truth about Dumbledore and Hermione’s current whereabouts. I did not offer him the truth about the nature of her presence here... or yours for that matter. I was going to traumatise the little cretin but at the last minute I thought this might be better. Perhaps he will even run from Hogwarts.” 

Severus experienced a tiny little clenching in his chest. Lilly’s son.. he’d...defiled him..and he probably would react to the news about Dumbledore with panic and hasty action. He might indeed run.   
It pained him slightly to think of him dying. He’d sworn to protect him. ..and the way the boy had clung to him so desperately..   
He lowered his head, unwilling to meet the Dark Lord’s eyes.   
A slender finger beneath his chin guided his face back up. His master frowned at him and then the crimson eyes widened in surprise. “...Severus.. do you still wish to protect the boy?!” 

He averted his gaze unhappily and sighed. 

“Look at me!” his master demanded, incensed. 

Against his own better judgement he complied, opening his memories to scrutiny. He felt the Dark Lord sifting the many memories of the boy finding guilt, anger, irritation, jealousy, but then in the most recent memories, compassion, sympathy, lust, tenderness and protectiveness. He saw himself with the poison in his hand, looking down at the vulnerable boy holding his hand. Then the same boy was whimpering in seeming pain and fear at the invisible barrier he’d erected and then he was clamped around him, clinging with his entire body to Severus, arousing him with his closeness.   
The next memories went past in flashes.. kissing the boy, sucking him as he mewled and begged, pushing his head down upon his own cock, preparing to penetrate him before Weasley, that worm, interrupted them both. 

The Dark Lord pulled out of Severus’ mind and his expression was strained, tense. “I see..” he murmured darkly. 

Severus lowered his eyes and swallowed. “I’m ..sorry, my Lord.” He whispered hoarsely. 

His master shook his head absently, looking distracted. “I will think on the matter. Leave me, Severus.” His voice sounded colder somehow. Just a bit more like the Dark Lord he’d known before Hermione came into the picture. He nodded miserably and half rose, descending the stairs backwards and then bowing and apparating on the spot. 

Back in his potions lab he berated himself at length on his stupidity. His master had been affectionate with him.. had generously shared information with him.. and now.. he felt incongruently as if he had betrayed him with his mortal enemy. It was terrible.   
The kiss they had just shared flashed in his mind.. that face.. the man he would do anything for.. His master was going to become that man again permanently and he wanted Severus.. he had actually wanted him.. he’d instructed him to make his change permanent.. he had determined that he would be allowed to see Hermione again tomorrow.. and now everything was ruined because of Severus own ridiculous concern for the bane of his life. 

He should have poisoned the boy!


	17. Chapter 17

Voldemort stood at a balcony on the fifth floor of the castle looking out over a turbulent ocean. Young Malfoy had just departed with the memory Potter had had the gall to ask for.   
He sneered. He had chosen the memory carefully and suspected it would give the boy something to think about.   
No doubt Draco would be back soon with further demands from the brat. 

He couldn’t quite believe it. Not only had the wretch kissed Hermione, but he had dallied with Severus too! Of all the.. 

There were currently only two individuals for whom he might..possibly..under very particular circumstances be prepared to risk harm to himself and Potter was apparently in pursuit of both of them. 

He knew he should be pleased at this news. Used correctly it could bring the boy grovelling to his door..   
but then he would be here and Severus would almost certainly be quite distressed if he harmed him..   
Hermione, he wasn’t sure about. She had responded to a fantasy of killing him only this morning but he suspected that she would, in the wake of the hormones, be even more protective of the little scab than Severus. She would rattle on at length about how he was her friend.. and ‘please’ and ‘I’ll do anything’ and then he would be loath to upset her by killing the boy. 

This was exactly why he had chosen to remain apart from others. Connections complicated matters. Today he had wished to spare the chit pain and tomorrow he would be dropping his head into the gallows for Harry Potter to pull the chain.   
No.. this was quite unacceptable. 

He snarled at the grey tossing waves. He had a meeting shortly with the inner circle. It would be inconvenient to reschedule it, but he did not feel focused enough for the matters they would be discussing. His mind drifted back to Severus. He had been stunned when the man had apparated before him. Over time he had forgotten how dark and coltish the Potions Master had been when he was young.   
And after the glamour, Severus’ mind had been on fire with adoration and raw desire...alight with desperate need. He had tasted it in his kiss.. felt the devotion and delight as Severus had pleasured him.   
He had been tempted by him.. by his purrs as he’d curled at his feet, being stroked and massaged. He’d considered for a moment how it might be to invite the man back, in his younger form.. he’d considered it so concretely that he’d wondered how Hermione might react.. whether he would have to be concerned that she might favour Severus.. 

And then..to find Potter in his memories.. to find Severus concerned for the boy.. 

It was more than disappointing. 

It left him ..feeling..something he found unpleasant. Difficult to put a name on the feeling. He was not used to this possessiveness he experienced about Hermione and..apparently also Severus. 

Unwilling to arrive late only in order to ruminate on the unpleasant business further, he spun on the spot and apparated into the dedicated meeting room he set aside for the inner circle.   
He had used blood and memory wards around the room. Not only did the witch or wizard need to be part of the small list of bloods keyed to the ward, but they had to possess a memory fragment shared by all others in the inner circle. None of them knew which memory it was.   
The ward was quite unique – one of his more recent designs. Anyone failing to pass muster would be apparated into a cell in the dungeons instead of the comfortable room. 

He strode to his chair immediately, eager to get the meeting over with. All but two of his servants were already present and sitting at the large boardroom table. Refreshments were waiting and he glanced at Lucius Malfoy at his right, who was sipping at his tea as if he were at a stockholders meeting.   
All three Lestranges were arranged on his other side. Bella at his immediate left seemed unsure whether to behave like an eager or a smacked puppy. Rodolphus had a firewhisky before him but he noted that it was untouched. Good. The man did not see fit to indulge until important matters were handled. Rabastan was talking quietly but animatedly with Rookwood. 

He let his eye wander down the ranks of the most faithful, marking those who had ascended since Severus exclusion. Mulciber and Nott were old hands but Rosier junior and Avery junior, Rowle, Yaxley and Travers were all new blood, replacing Severus, Lestrange Sr. and Rosier Sr., and supplementing for the global focus his campaign was now forcing him to take.   
The two who were inexcusably late were Dolohov and the universally-despised Pettigrew.   
The latter apparated in at that moment, flustered with nose twitching. Clearly he had been somewhere in his animagus form until very recently.

“My Lord! I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to be late! Please Master.. mercy!” he fell to his knees immediately, grovelling and snivelling.   
At his right, he heard Lucius sniff in disgust. Agreeing entirely he wordlessly tossed the cruciatus at the disgusting little worm and returned to stirring his tea.   
Dolohov was still absent. That wasn’t at all like him.   
He summoned the man impatiently and turned to the others, dropping the cruciatus on Pettigrew out of pure expediency.

“Get up, wormtail – you have disrupted the meeting quite sufficiently already. If we might begin. I will hear...Yaxley.. first, I think.”   
He sipped at his tea and listened to the report on Yaxley’s infiltration of the ministry. Apparently he had recruited three new assets, one within regulation of magical creatures, one in the international magical trading standards body and one.. he seemed overly pleased.. within the department of magical law enforcement. He presented a short report from the totality of his gained assets to date – now numbering almost thirty and becoming difficult for him to manage alone. Upon inquiry he thought that perhaps two of the group might be suitable to initiate immediately and a further ten within a month to two months.   
Musing on whether to meet them in anonymous secured locations next week in order to test them and perhaps take some of the slack off Yaxley, he realised that Dolohov had yet to arrive.   
“Where is Antonin!” he demanded abruptly.   
He focused on him but could not determine more than that the man lived. Perhaps..also that he was angry.   
“Yaxley.. I have a suspicion that something unfortunate has happened to Dolohov – it is entirely unlike him to ignore a summons. Go and determine whether he has been taken. Report to me when you know.” 

He should perhaps have waited to summon the man. His arm would burn now without respite until he saw him. That would be inconvenient for him should he be transported to Azkaban.   
He shrugged the matter off and turned to Lucius. “Tell me of the Wizengamot and the business community, Lucius” he prompted, sitting back to hear of the advances in those areas over the last week. Lucius had seemed calm and relaxed so he assumed that there had been some significant advance.   
In his peripheral vision he was irritatingly aware of Bella’s simpering struggle to be well behaved. She sat as if imitating Narcissa Malfoy. He observed Lucius eyes flicking over her in distaste and held his smile inside.   
The meeting dragged on interminably after that. There were advances in most quarters. Apparently the large money was undecided which way to lean at present but Lucius had cultivated an asset serving with him on the Wizengamot – a notable achievement in light of controls against exactly that eventuality. 

Over the next briefs he learned that Wizarding elite in Germany and Spain (and their respective managed territories in Austria/Switzerland/Holland and Portugal) were making favourable noises. To have the vast magical domains attributed to the two controlling nations supporting him would be extremely advantageous. Russia had been in support almost from the beginning but most of Eastern Europe was too fractured in terms of wizarding elite to be of use. France, unfortunately, was definitely almost entirely in support of the ministry of magic status quo while Italy was waiting on developments.   
The Scandinavian domain would remain neutral to territorial disputes as always.   
Nevertheless France and Italy were comparatively small in terms of power and territory. Allied with Spain, Germany and Russia, and with Scandinavia keeping its nose out of the matter, he would essentially possess Europe and Italy would fly to his side – they tended always to support the stronger power, whatever it might be. France would then be contained and no threat.   
He instructed Rowle and Rosier to determine what it would take to cement Germany and Spain’s support. 

Mulciber informed that the werewolves in Britain were supporting him at an estimated rate of 40% and sought assurances about their rights post conflict, to mobilise the masses. The centaurs were against him to circa 85-90% but unlikely to join any marked battles that might eventuate, provided they did not take place on their designated territories. The trolls were still without any kind of approachable organised structure and would remain equally useless for the light. The giants were busy in internal squabbles and had been aggressive to his contact – they might be more amenable to dialogue from one of their own. Goblins were remaining neutral and would deal with whatever power ended up in control. Similarly, the Fae wanted nothing whatsoever to do with the matter and would continue to ignore whatever side was in control.   
Rabastan reported on the veela and vampires. The veela, such that they had a council, were currently in support of the Ministry of Magic but were unhappy with conditions. Most of their number were obliged to work in the sex industry and they were classed under the magical creatures act with all pertaining laws, lacking access to basic wizarding rights. Rabastan thought they could be turned if promised better rights and conditions – but this, just as with the werewolves, would likely alienate most of the pureblood supporters who wanted magical beings controlled. 

Rabastan apparently narrowly escaped becoming a meal in his overture to the Vampire elite within Britain. Evidently they had interpreted it as a slight that a mere emissary was sent to speak with their leaders. He reflected on his choice to send Rabastan. It had been partially in order to feel out their reaction and partially due to the relative expendability of the man. He was not nearly diplomatic enough for such a task.   
Ideally – Lucius or Severus would have been the better candidates for the mission. He was certainly not about to place himself in a room with ten ancient vampires. That would be..unwise.   
Lucius was too valuable within the ministry and business realms and Severus..   
He paused.   
He would previously not have sent Severus due to the man’s questionable loyalty, however...now..   
He considered the proposition. Severus was certainly persuasive. He would be able to convince the vampires that any meeting with the Dark Lord had to be held under carefully controlled conditions for everyone’s benefit.   
But..Rabastan had been attacked.. sending Severus would be adding insult to injury. He could be killed. The matter required further thought. He laid it aside and listened to Rodolphus report on the status of the recruited dark army, which was growing at a rate of about 5 recruits per week on average. It was currently battle ready to perhaps slightly less than 60%. 3000 soldiers all told, assigned to eighty camps across Britain. Rodolphus informed him that the so called ‘outer circle’ of death eaters was stable at present, although discontented murmurs circulated in some quarters which he would personally address.

Bella quite lucidly reported on the leanings of the three greater and fourteen lesser gangs in the wizarding world. He had assigned her this role for simple expediency. Her natural tendency toward spontaneous ruthless violence and insistence upon respect for his name was quite well suited to dealing with the vicious and unpredictable creatures that ran the wizarding organized crime syndicates. In his opinion there were a lot of wizards among those groups who were more than a little unbalanced – and indeed she had formed contacts quite easily there.   
Bella informed them that two of the major gangs – the Edici Rapru and the Abramelis were offering an alliance while the third ‘Occunati’s Scourge’- the strongest and natural enemy of the first two, was resistant, due to the leanings of its enemies.   
Of the smaller gangs, the majority would go with the stronger power – which would be the Dark Lord if the Edici and Abramelins aligned.   
The power of the gangs was not in fighting – although they would be useful there, it was in their organised crime networks – particularly in the case of the larger gangs, which interconnected with those in Europe and the Americas. They could acquire resources and funds easily through these channels in return for funds and assurances of their role post conflict. They had a stake in the issue as they made a lot of profit from illegal traffic in dark items, however they also faced a hardening regulatory environment and harsh punishments – they would wish a world in which they became privileged legal channels for trade in those markets without ministerial recourse to justice. They would offer him a fixed discount on all purchases providing he eliminated their competition – the Scourge. However it might be better to wait and talk with the stronger gang to see what they might offer after they had had another week to sweat on the matter. 

Rowle reported on the public sentiment within Britain which was currently “70%-against”, however this shifted to “75%-for” if only the twelve oldest and most powerful families were considered – these constituted 20% of the population but 80% of ministry, trade/finance and academic roles – and represented over 80% of total wealth. Rowle also sought control of media outlets – with the exception of Rabastan, he had had the least success this week as two of his reporters in the daily prophet had been placed under investigation. They had no concrete ties to the death eaters but it was likely that the scare would push them away even so. 

Dolohov.. absent.. had been expected to report on the temperature in the United States and Latin America.   
Voldemort wondered whether he had been detained there or in Britain. It would be far simpler to reclaim him in the British Isles. 

Travers reported that the United Arab Wizarding Community were tentatively in support of whoever would offer them assistance in their own domain to develop their shielding against the increasing muggle incursions and to modify their territory to be able to produce the rare potions ingredients they were currently importing at great cost. They were also seeking trade agreements and this might push them to unified support.   
India, like the United Arab Wizarding Community, was in support of whomsoever would offer them the best deal – they were looking for bidirectional defense promises in light of their ongoing conflict with the Chinese wizarding community. China, in contrast, was a relatively closed wizarding community – Travers had done well even securing a meeting with an official - and they explicitly wanted to remain aloof from the situation in Britain. They did not care who ruled the tiny irrelevant island, as they said.   
This was all rather to be expected. India and China were inextricably linked and he could not risk becoming entangled in their conflict. Both communities were stronger than Britain, even if all of its forces were marshalled in one cause – which they currently were not.   
He considered the Arabs.. They had considerable forces and a bilateral trade deal could be mutually beneficial to both domains in light of the respective herbological strengths. He would have to act quickly and offer more. He empowered Travers to begin hammering out a deal and warned him that if Dolohov were incapacitated, something would have to be done about the Americas to be certain that they would not interfere should it come to open warfare. 

Finally it was Wormtail’s turn.   
“Hogwarts has been very quiet apart from the business with the Granger mudblood. Harry Potter was in Snape’s quarters for the first half of the week but now he’s wandering about like a lost lamb.   
Keeps meeting up with Lucius’ boy though. I’ve seen them together twice.   
The last time they met, Dumbledore was there somewhere too. I could smell him. And then Potter ran off to the room of requirement again” 

Alarmed, Voldemort interrupted. “When was this?!” 

Wormtail flinched and looked afraid. “An hour ago... perhaps almost two now. I can’t get into the room of requirement when someone’s in there, as you’d know M’Lord. Dumbledore left after Harry went in.” 

Voldemort leaned back and steepled his fingers, narrowing his eyes and gazing preoccupied at the water jug.   
“continue” he said curtly.

The rat was nervous now at his reaction and stumbled on his words. “The Weasley children are upset. The boy wanted the mudblood and is very upset at her being missing - the girl is still after Potter but he doesn’t want anything to do with her. I’ve seen him shaking her off at breakfast.   
I heard the Weasley boy and girl in an empty classroom talking about some offer Dumbledore made them. They didn’t mention what it was but the girl seemed to want to take it while the boy didn’t like it. The other Gryffindors are all talking about quidditch and classes and who they want to date mostly. Don’t even seem to notice Potter’s absence much.   
He talked to a blonde girl today before Malfoy’s boy came. Called her ‘Luna’” 

“The lovegoods” Lucius interjected. “The mother is dead – a spell accident I believe.. the father runs that hack paper – the twiddler or something isn’t it? Draco mentioned the girl once or twice. Apparently she is pretty but mentally unstable. A ravenclaw.” 

Voldemort frowned at him. “If she were mentally unstable, would she really be a Ravenclaw? Perhaps she has a strange sense of humor? Her father runs a paper.. What is his alignment?” 

Rowle spoke up “Not particularly supportive of the Ministry, but rabidly against you, My Lord.” 

Voldemort nodded slowly. “What else can you tell me about their meeting, rat?” 

Wormtail dithered. “Um.. they hugged. Harry seemed to be comforted by her. Before they met he seemed depressed. Afterward he was better. They talked about...rubbish.. some kind of creature i’ve never hear of that lives in swarms by the forbidden forest or something? She told him he couldn’t think in the castle because of some other animal or something that was infesting it.   
L-Lucius could be right..she seemed not right in the head.” 

Voldemort frowned and debated internally. He could bring her here. One more piece of support removed from Harry’s world. Her father would be anxious not to have her sent home in weekly parcels.   
Hermione might enjoy..   
No. Stop that thought. Hermione was not a factor in any of his decisions in this room.   
“Acquire her. I want to see her here by tomorrow evening.” 

Lucius spoke up after a moment. “Draco may be able to do it.. I am not certain however. There is a risk of exposing him.” 

Voldemort shook his head. “Not Draco. He is needed for other purposes. Nott – your son is in Ravenclaw, isn’t he?”   
The man hesitated and then nodded.   
“Theo has not trained in these type of missions, my Lord...” 

Breathing in pensively, Voldemort made the choice. “He will succeed. He is a Ravenclaw. Abductions are logistical puzzles rather than endurance races. Contact him immediately. If he is in her house, he can most easily capture her during the night. You will meet him at the apparition line in the forest. I assume he knows how to disillusion himself and others?!”   
Nott nodded. 

“Excuse me then, my Lord, I will go and...get onto that..”   
He stood and disapparated with a visibly heavy burden.   
Voldemort frowned at his empty chair. “What else Wormtail?” he demanded The rat’s eyes flicked from side to side as if he was looking for cover. 

“uh.. I don’t know..um..there’s going to be a new teacher for defense now that Snape’s gone missing. Don’t know who yet. Someone new. Female. The teachers were talking about her. Saying things like She’s young. She’s quite good. She’ll keep them in line. That kind of thing. Didn’t mention any names. That’s all.” 

Nodding, Voldemort turned his attention away from the fat ugly little man and back to the group. “Well then. You all know what I wish for you to do in the coming fortnight. I do have some information, that you have no doubt been wondering about.. I can confirm – Severus is here. He will not be returning to Hogwarts. He is busy with a private project at the moment, however you will see him here at the next meeting perhaps.” 

There were uneasy glances between the various faces. Clearly others had been suspicious of Severus too. Lucius alone seemed pleased.   
Voldemort hesitated and then continued with the final piece of information he had decided to offer, in order to circumvent rumours   
“Furthermore.. Hermione Granger is also here. She is not a prisoner-“ gasps and growls of disbelief went up. He noticed Wormtail looked pleasantly surprised. “but has..SILENCE.. You will not interrupt me!” The group stilled immediately and avoided his eyes. He glared and continued icily. “The girl is not a prisoner – but chose to defect and serve our cause, knowing that to do so would likely mean a painful death for her in light of her blood status. She brought me an extremely valuable gift in the process, an object that will be of critical importance in the future.   
The girl is exceedingly bright – recorded as Hogwarts highest achieving student since my own attendance and she was also Harry Potter’s best friend. The boy thinks himself in love with her in fact. Therefore – she is of worth. Should I at any point learn that any of you.. or indeed any of those under your respective commands.. have harmed the girl in any way, I will be quick to make a very painful example of the party responsible.. and I shall carry responsibility up the chain of command.   
Do not allow your wand...your hand..or indeed any other body part .. to “accidentally” slip. I will show no tolerance for misunderstandings on this matter.   
That will be all – you are dismissed.” 

He pushed his empty teacup back and leaned back in his chair. Many of the men before him stood and cut a bow before disapparating.   
Lucius, Bella and Rodolphus remained, he observed.   
Bella was once again unable to restrain herself. She was leaning forward with shining eyes, looking at him adoringly. He frowned and was about to dress her down when Yaxley apparated back into the room. “My Lord – Antonin is being held by the ministry.” He blurted. “Both my contacts in the auror division confirmed that a maximum security prisoner was transported into the ministry two hours ago.” He stood uneasily. 

Voldemort groaned internally as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “We will have to reacquire him” he said in a low irritated voice. “Lucius.. Ideas?”   
The blonde looked troubled and swallowed.   
“Not..yet, my Lord.. How high up on the ladder are your auror contacts, Yaxley?” 

The other man shook his head unhappily. “Not high enough. One is a recent recruit and the other a benched special detective sergeant. It’s unlikely that he could spring Antonin and if he tried and failed he’d be lost as an asset.” 

Voldemort scowled. Of the men he’d recently dismissed none were really strategists, although several were commanders and diplomats.. Rodolphus was probably the pick of the bunch as battle strategists went. Bella would only get in the way.   
He drew his wand and flicked it at her. “Your hex is released Bella – you are dismissed. I would talk with Iago, Rodolphus and Lucius alone.” 

Bella’s face fell. She looked like a child who’d just dropped the ice cream they had so rejoiced over. “Yes my Lord” she responded disappointedly and stood, disapparating on the spot. 

“You three will remain here. I shall return shortly.”   
He stood and disapparated back to his study. When he got there he groaned in annoyance.   
“What in Merlin’s name is going on here?! I instructed you to practice the hex upon her, not invite her to tea!” 

Hermione looked up at him smiling. “I know.. But I completed the hex successfully three times and.. well.. she was really nice about it. You didn’t say I couldn’t have tea with her.   
Her name is Angela – she works in an office in surrey. Apparently her boyfriend is in the dungeons somewhere too she thinks. They were watching a rerun of bride of Frankenstein when some men came into their house and took them.   
She seems a nice person. What’s going to happen to her?!“ 

He struggled not to snarl at her. This was a waste of time that he may not have to spare. Antonin had served him for decades. If he broke, there was much that might fall out.   
Bending quickly, he turned the frightened muggle woman’s face toward him, staring into her eyes and plunging into her unguarded mind. After a few minutes he released her and turned back to Hermione. “She has betrayed her boyfriend with three different men, one of them his close friend. Apparently she was bored and her boyfriend’s penis is too small. She remains with him because he has a good job and she likes his apartment. She plans to marry him and then become pregnant, in order to be assured of an income when she leaves him. She also cheats on her taxes and her timesheet, steals her neighbours paper at least once a week and her colleagues yoghurt whenever she believes she will not be caught, lies to her friends about how they look in clothing and dislikes all animals. Her name is actually Katherine. She may not be evil but she is not a particularly nice person. She is going back to the dungeons.” He flicked his wand at the violently blushing woman and she disappeared.

Hermione frowned indecisively as if unsure whether to object. He cut off that line of thinking with an axe “Now! I desire your assistance on a matter of some urgency. One of my men has been taken by the ministry and I must reacquire him before he reveals his secrets under interrogation. They have had him for almost two hours..I anticipate he has been under interrogation for perhaps an hour and a half now. He has learned to resist veritaserum, however with higher doses he will break eventually. We have perhaps five or six hours at the most to reclaim him.   
Are you willing to contribute your thoughts on how to go about his rescue?” 

He examined her surprised and then flushed, pleased, face.   
She nodded, seemingly awed. “I..I’ll help if I can.” She said softly. He nodded back curtly, relieved and offered his hand, pulling her tightly against him and apparating her through the dangerous wards. 

Identical gaping expressions appeared on Lucius, Rodolphus and iago Yaxley’s faces as he released the girl and she looked about, bemusedly, recognising Lucius and Rodolphus, even if the latter did not remember her.   
“Hermione will assist.” He informed the others shortly and shot them all a measured look. “I will retrieve Severus also. Begin in my absence.” He turned, ignoring Hermione’s shocked wide eyed look at being left with the three men, and disapparated to Severus side. 

The man, still in youthened form, did not jump a foot in the air at his master’s appearance behind him, but he did stiffen sharply. “My Lord..” he said with trepidation. 

Voldemort did not bother addressing his justified fear but stated simply “Antonin has been taken. I require you to assist in planning his rescue. Immediately. Whatever that is – put it in stasis.” 

Severus complied wordlessly and turned, his eyes betraying the emotional disorder within him. There was a flicker of hope there also.   
“I..I am so sorry. Please forgive me” he whispered. 

There was no time for this and he informed the Potions Master as much, opening his arms for him to come to him. The man swallowed unhappily at the rejected apology and embraced him tightly, his face laid against the silken shoulder before him. They disapparated immediately back to the conference room, where it seemed that.. inexplicably.. the young girl had taken charge. She was instructing Yaxley on the various plans she needed – at present she wanted the plumbing and ventilation plans.   
He released Severus absently, stunned and pleased at this development. Maps and floor plans were already arrayed on the long table, which had been lowered. 

“Severus?!!”

Voldemort’s attention shifted to Lucius, who looked like he was seeing a ghost and a male stripper at the same time.   
His potions master nodded absently and moved to join Rodolphus at the floor plan of the holding cells in the ministry. 

Voldemort exchanged a slow look with Lucius who seemed confused .. even distressed. Turning away he joined the others examining the ministry floor plan. It was a transparent 3D map, marked with departmental tags. The holding cells and auror interrogation rooms were on the second floor below ground. Above the cells were the Minister for Magic and his support staff – heavily warded and guarded, and below was the department for magical accidents and catastrophes – full of highly trained magic reversal experts and obliviators and highly warded due to the research division contained within.   
The second floor held a large open area with bullpen desks that would be full of aurors, in the back of this area a corridor led off to the prisoner facilities. Behind this area was a metre thick wall of stone and steel surrounded by tonnes of earth below a busy street.   
It was, for obvious reason, a difficult to reach spot. Rodolphus had seen the same thing and looked quite concerned. He was looking at the entrance and the atrium. 

“My Lord.. A direct assault will probably fail, irrespective of numbers” he said quietly. “There are three bottlenecks – at the floos, at the elevators and at the second floor foyer. Should we manage to get in, we would not get out again. It won’t work.” 

The young Severus nodded thoughtfully. “We will need to use deception to gain access. It’s a risk. Whoever we use – we could as easily be gifting them to the aurors as regaining Dolohov..” 

“Excuse me?! Did you say Dolohov?!” The girl’s voice piped up sounding annoyed. 

Voldemort turned to her and raised a hairless brow. “Yes. What of it?” 

Her face darkened. “He almost killed me last year in the bloody ministry of magic. I was in St Mungos for weeks. It doesn’t matter. Forget I mentioned it – Do portkeys work inside the ministry? Inside the aurors department?” 

Voldemort found he was still preoccupied with the first part of her comment. She’d almost died last year? He wondered what the hex had been. She didn’t carry any scars now.. 

“Yes.. theoretically.” Rodolphus responded to her query curtly. “Although I expect anti portkey wards can be set if it is suspected that they are needed. ..but it doesn’t matter much either way - we have no way of getting one to him since we cannot get into his cell” 

She nodded and leaned down over the intricate map she was looking at. It was like a lattice.. a webwork of lines delineating vague boxes. After a minute she looked up again.   
“Can living creatures be portkeys?” 

Everyone else had stopped poring over the floorplan and was watching her. Voldemort looked from face to face. Yaxley seemed to have a calculating expectant expression. He seemed to have accepted that the girl might be useful.   
Yaxley, he remembered, was a halfblood once-removed on his mother’s side. He was a useful man.   
Rodolphus was visibly sceptical and was trying to catch Lucius eye in the hopes of seeing his opposition to her presence reflected there. Lucius on the other hand was entirely uninterested in Rodolphus at present. His gaze was fixed on Severus. He spared Hermione a puzzled glance, as if unable to comprehend that he was currently working with her, at least technically – he had not offered anything of use. 

Severus was watching Hermione with bright fascinated eyes. “Yes. Living creatures can be portkeys. You already have a plan.” It wasn’t a question.   
Voldemort looked at the girl with surprise. “Do you? Explain it!”   
She shook her head faintly. “Not a plan yet really.. just maybe an Idea. – how good are snakes at remembering and following directions? Can they crawl up pipes – what factors determine whether they can or can’t crawl up a pipe?   
Otherwise can insects be imperiused?” 

Voldemort felt the smile on his own face break out uncontrolled. She did have a plan already. Clever, clever, little girl. She was his... This brilliant mind in this delicious little body.   
He crossed to her, standing behind her and examining the pipe plan.   
“The memory and ability to take directions depends on the species. Adders are quite clever – in terms of concrete instructions they can remember up to about ten different directives. However they have a visual memory for directions. It would be insufficient to tell the snake to go ahead twelve lengths and then turn right and then take the first left. The snake would need to be taken through the path it is to follow.   
That is achievable however.   
A snake must be at least a third the width of the pipe they intend to scale otherwise progress will be slow and difficult. How wide are the pipes?   
Insects can be imperiused but their memories are not well suited to retaining long detailed instructions. A snake is a better option.   
You intend to send a snake as a portkey into the cell or interrogation room?” 

Hermione shook her head again. “No.. there aren’t any direct links to the interrogation room, and the cell’s toilet is fed by a separate tank – but there are air vents that feed into the corridor.   
The snake, if it got there, would have to wait till the door was opened..“   
Severus had come to join them and stood on his other side. “Invisibility potion” he interjected. I don’t see why it wouldn’t work on reptiles as well as people. It reacts on an atomic level.” 

Hermione looked up at him, her eyes lingering just a moment too long, although she didn’t mention his changed appearance. Seconds later Lucius had joined them too on Severus other side.   
“How is the snake supposed to get through the door?” he enquired seriously. “interrogation can continue uninterrupted for several hours. No doubt they will wish to avoid every risk in their questioning of Antonin.” 

The small girl at his side bit her lip. “Perhaps we could create some kind of distraction that might pull the aurors out of the interrogation room?.. there’s still the problem of figuring out whether he’s in a cell or an interrogation room though – and which one. The snake could go into the wrong room and become trapped“ 

Voldemort peered at the map. “Show me the route they would take” the girl traced the thin white line that fell from the surface level down to the fifth floor then branched back up and down, dividing off at each level and branching again twice on the second floor before it reached the prisoner corridor.   
She blinked “They?! You want to send more than one?”   
He nodded. “We will send one snake for each door in the corridor. Their activation will be a bite and I will ensure that they only bite a person bearing my mark. If the other snakes become trapped they will be found when the invisibility potion wears off. They will therefore have to portkey their target to a neutral location that cannot be traced back to me, else the remaining snakes may arrive unexpectedly, bearing a squad of aurors.   
Severus.. go and..” he trailed off, remembering the man could not leave the room due to the wards. “Damn. Do you have sufficient invisibility potion for this task? 

The young man at his side looked thoughtful. “I have enough.. the question is only how long the effect must last. Standard invisibility potion lasts no more than an hour.” 

“Capsules” Hermione offered. “Slow release as they’re digested. You’ll need to create three with varying thickness shells in order to have a slow release of doses. If you shrink them, the potion should be unaffected, right?” 

Voldemort looked back to Severus who wore a dubious expression. “Perhaps.. I’d need to test it.”   
Hermione responded immediately. “So test it. We’re short on time. How do you want to teach the snakes the route t..my Lord?” 

He snorted. It had sounded like a stutter – he would have been angry if she had slipped and called him by his name before his servants. He waved at the 3d map before him , copying it.   
“Do not concern yourself with that part. I will take care of it. Lucius – go and prepare a secured site for the portkeys to vent to.” 

The blond, with a last longing look at Severus, nodded and apparated away. 

Voldemort turned to Rodolphus, Yaxley and Hermione. “You need to consider how to get the snakes into the pipe in the first place and how you will distract the auror division sufficiently to draw officers out of the interrogation rooms. I shall return when the snakes and their invisibility preparations are complete.”   
He turned toward Severus, offering his arm for the man..boy...no man.. to hold onto him. Severus did not hesitate but, ignoring the arm, moved to embrace him.   
Voldemort narrowed his eyes at Rodolphus and Yaxley, who were watching with similar speculative expressions, and disapparated with Severus back to his lab. 

Upon arriving the man hesitated only a moment before releasing him and turning away to his finished potion stores, searching through till he found the stocks of invisibility potion. 

Voldemort would go and select volunteers from his reptile environment shortly..but he lingered a moment curiously.   
“What will you do about Lucius, if I allow you to rejoin us?” He questioned the young Potion Master’s back softly, standing behind him. 

The dark head fell slightly and it took a long time for Severus to respond   
“It was always you. Since the day you called me to you. Lucius knows it. He will be difficult nonetheless. I do not know what I can do to prevent that. I want to be with you, my Lord.”

Voldemort laid his hand on the slender shoulder, squeezing slightly. “I shall return soon. Prepare the capsules to test” He disapparated.

 

 

Hermione mustered the two men across the table from her. Rodolphus Lestrange looked quite hostile while Yaxley looked more curious than anything else. 

“Why did you betray your friends?” Rodolphus demanded suddenly. 

She blinked, unsure whether it was a question or a general berating.   
“Look, we need to think of a distraction. You can question me later, surely. I don’t want to have nothing to offer when the Dark Lord returns” 

Rodolphus narrowed his eyes at her. “You don’t fear him. Why is that? It’s sensible to fear him. Merlin – I’ll freely admit that I fear him – I’m certain Yaxley does too.   
You aren’t bothered though. You’re more worried about disappointing him than being cursed.” 

Hermione growled in frustration. “Fine! You continue to have a think about me over there and I’ll come up with some plans, ok.” 

She dragged a chair out from the table and tossed herself into it. It was an executive chair with a swivel and rocking motion. Expensive. She rocked on it absently while staring through the wall, considering various ideas. 

“We...could launch a large raid elsewhere and put in an anonymous tip?” Yaxley offered quietly. 

Rodolphus didn’t comment but continued to scowl at Hermione, apparently still preoccupied with her. 

“Maybe..” she responded to Yaxley. “But how would we ensure that nobody else is taken or killed? It could end up even worse. Are there even Death Eaters standing ready to attack at.. what.. um.. eleven at night on a Thursday?!” 

“Yes.” Rodolphus answered with certainty, apparently tuning in again on this matter. “There are about three hundred available at any given time.   
But I agree - it could turn into a massive clusterfuck if we actually warn the aurors of an attack and then dump our soldiers in the thick of it.” 

Yaxley pulled out a chair and sat down across from her pensively. After a minute of low mumbled growling, Rodolphus followed, sprawling himself in the chair and staring at her with his dark blue eyes.

After a little while she asked “What about a lot of smaller attacks and a lot of false alarm reports too? We could make them panic and think that a massive force was involved but use only minimal forces and go for big visual impact. Explosions, lots and lots of Dark Mark’s in the sky and fire. That would cause them to panic.” 

Rodolphus nodded slowly. “It would be safer for us to do that.. and probably easier to organize. We could target places that store chemicals and accelerants..lumberyards, large wooden structures, things of that nature. That kind of place makes a big mess but usually isn’t really guarded.. well – except by muggles. Throw up twenty or thirty decoy marks in addition to the real marks and they’d have most of the auror department out chasing, trying to figure out what was real and what was decoy. It still probably wouldn’t pull interrogators off Antonin though. In fact they’d probably put more security on, expecting a rescue attempt.” 

Hermione nodded slowly. “Yes. You’re right. It has to be something unrelated to the death eaters. Something like a problem in the actual ministry of magic. Something mundane but dangerous.” 

Yaxley looked up at her with wide eyes. “The spell damage research division is below the auror department! They have some kind of alarms in there I think. There’s a kind of lockdown when they have an accident. I’ve got a couple of people in there.. Don’t know if they’d be working this late – I doubt it, but sometimes there are damaged spells and objects left there unattended because the alarms will go off if anything goes wrong.   
The alarms go off throughout the entire ministry. There’s an evacuation procedure for when the damage is dangerous and not fully contained. Maybe... we could set off that alarm somehow?” 

Hermione smiled broadly at the man. “You’ve got it. That’s what we’ll do. How do they work?”   
The situation became less encouraging the more she learned about it unfortunately. The alarms were magical.. no wires or switchboards to hack. There had to actually be a dangerous spell in their vicinity to set them off. And to set off the evacuation alarm it had to be something that was spreading somehow and might affect other floors if not dealt with.   
She returned to the pipe map, tracing the path to the third floor research division. It wasn’t really any worse than the second floor. In both cases the snake would have to drop from a vent in the ceiling onto the floor. There was no way to get back up to the vent.   
If they did get a snake to carry some kind of dangerous expanding spell into the research division, it would have no way of getting out. But... perhaps if it were a portkey too...it could somehow self activate and escape? 

“We need a dangerous expanding spell that can somehow be carried and set off by a snake...”


	18. Chapter 18

“Answer the question you son of a whore!” 

Antonin looked up at the irate auror with calm eyes. Inside he was panicking and barely keeping control. The veritaserum rushing through his brain was making him tense and uncomfortable. Every time they asked a question and he remained silent it increased.   
Aurors were stupid. The Dark Lord would tell them that to make veritaserum truly effective it had to be applied with a babbling draught to force the victim to be unable to remain silent. He had trained on the Death Eaters veritaserum mix. It was much more potent. But they had given him a lot here now – they kept giving him more when he didn’t respond – with luck he’d overdose soon.   
It was only the painful burning of his mark that was keeping him fully lucid now. If he didn’t have that he’d be in a stupor. 

He didn’t even dare to shake his head at them, just looked at the red face balefully. The man ranting at him was a lumberjack of an auror. Tall and strong with sandy brown hair cut short and pale blue eyes. Had to be in his fifties but he was still someone Antonin would be wary of in a fight. The other auror leaning on the back wall glaring at him was a shorter man with curly blonde hair and grey eyes. Maybe in his forties. He wasn’t as fit looking but for that, he looked a bit smarter. The two were taking turns talking with him. It was literally the oldest trick in the book. This old monster yelled at him for a bit and then the other one tried to reason with him about how much better off he’d be if he just answered the questions. 

Stupid bastards. He wouldn’t be better off if he answered – these filth sacks would dump him in Azkaban and the Dark Lord would find a way to kill him slowly for his betrayal. 

Distracting himself from the spittle that the older auror was spraying across his face in his frustrated yelling from an inch away, he wondered what was going to happen to him. Would he be rescued? Probably not before he got to Azkaban, like last time.   
He couldn’t hold up that long. They’d break him long before then.   
Would they give him a trial? Would they give him the kiss this time? 

His arm hurt like a bastard. The auror shouted something else in his face. He blinked at the stinking breath, trying to continue ignoring it. Garlic and picadilly sauce. Disgusting. The time dragged on.

“Who are the other Death Eaters? What are their names?” 

He ignored the jolt inside as the serum forced the answers to the front of his mind. He knew a lot of names. If they had a legilimens.. But then he didn’t know whether this sweating blond pig in front of him was a legilimens. He lowered his eyes to the table and kept his mouth clamped shut. He tried to move as little as possible. 

“Look at me, you dementor-snack” the blonde demanded. 

Fuck. That wasn’t good. He might not be but.. it wasn’t good. The fucker could be a legilmens. What had he been thinking when the shorter man was talking to him before?!   
He thought that his main occlumentic walls might be ok but it was always hard to protect the front of your mind.. the thoughts happening.. and under this bloody serum.. Shit. Shit shit.. what had he given away already?!   
He couldn’t remember. He kept his eyes fixed on the table.   
A sudden blow across his cheekbone threw his face to the left, wrenching his neck. He hadn’t seen it coming. So they were moving on to this now.   
“Look at me when i talk to you, scum.”   
He pulled his face back and continued to look at the table. Seconds later another hard blow tossed his head back and dizzied him. He closed his eyes and straightened his head. This seemed to set both men off and in short order he found himself on the floor being kicked. He felt his ribs crack as one of their boots connected. They were reserving their blows for his body. A boot to his kidneys forced an inarticulate cry from him and he was hauled up roughly and thrown back into the chair.   
“Open your eyes” the voice of the shorter blonde instructed him from a few inches away. “open them or I’ll pin them open.” He felt a wand tease over his left eyelid. “I could cut them off..easily reattached before trial.”   
He snorted internally. Who was this guy?! Yaxley should recruit him. He heard the word and panicked, his mind was too fuzzy to focus right now. 

“Imperio..”

The fuzziness was deepening and he couldn’t fight it. He tried to collect all his strength to throw it off but it wasn’t happening. The horrible familiar pleasure softened him and then he heard the voice in his mind.   
“open your eyes”   
Yes.. it was a good idea. He should. He opened his eyes and looked at the tabletop.   
“Look at me” the voice said softly and he raised his eyes up to see a pale serious face and a mass of blonde curls. “Answer our questions” came next and he agreed internally – that would be the best course of action. He waited patiently for the question.   
“What are the names and ranks of every Death Eater you know?” The blonde asked quietly. 

He struggled to think. It was a big question. He had a strange feeling about it – like he didn’t want to answer – but that wasn’t true.. he really did want to answer, didn’t he. It would feel good to answer. “Paltis, Regent, Galfphrey, Odiun, Randorf, Precton, Prentis, Ashford, Gosprey, Gillycuttis, Frewit, Sandgage”

“Stop” the blonde instructed. “What is the rank of these Death Eaters” 

He responded immediately “novice initiate.” 

The blond exchanged a look with his colleague and turned back to him. “How many Death Eaters do you know the names of in total?” 

It took a while for Antonin to answer as he calculated slowly and sedately internally. “one hundred and twenty three” 

The men looked at each other again with dawning grins of realisation. “What is your rank, Dolohov?” 

He stared at them muzzily. “Inner circle” 

The two aurors moved quickly to the side and spoke too softly to each other to be heard. Antonin sat placidly but inside he struggled to think. It was so hard to think. Felt like being smothered with cotton candy.. He needed to think.   
He registered that one of the aurors had sent off a patronus. It was a dog of some kind. One of the spotty ones. The blonde was returning to him and moved close to lean on the table beside him casually. The man opened his mouth to ask another question and suddenly a deafening noise drowned him out.   
He tried to lift his hands to cover his ears as the two aurors were doing but they were fixed to the chair again. The sound was horrible. A metallic caterwauling. Some kind of alarm somewhere. It cut through the fuzz or else the blonde auror lost his grip on his imperius.

Dolohov kept his face blank, with difficulty. The aurors were yelling at each other but he could hear anything over the noise. The tall one went to the door and left in a hurry. Antonin thanked whatever might be responsible for this reprieve. He’d been on the edge of revealing anything they wanted.   
The tiny flicker of hope inside that this alarm might be due to a Death Eater attack was suppressed. It didn’t do to get your hopes up like that. Last time he’d been taken he’d hoped like that and he’d ended up in Azkaban for three months. 

A sudden unexpected sensation jolted him out of his thoughts. Something had touched his boot. He frowned at the blonde auror with his hands over his ears several metres away.   
The thing touching his boot moved over the boot and into his trouser leg.   
His blood turned to ice. A snake. There was a snake in the room somehow. He hadn’t seen it come in. This must be the Dark Lord’s play.   
But what was it going to do?!   
His mind reeled mazedly. It was a snake – it was probably poisonous. It was here to kill him. The Dark Lord was getting rid of him before he could spill his secrets.   
He whimpered inaudibly under the klaxons.   
The snake was still threadling its way up his leg. He could feel it wrapping its body around his calf. 

He realised, quite suddenly, that he did not want to die. Not even to protect his brothers in arms. He wanted to live.. even if only a little while longer. There was still hope while he lived.   
He made frantic motions to the blonde auror with his head. The man furrowed his brow at him, confused. He tried to shout and that brought the man over, his hands over his ears.   
He screamed at him and the man just frowned, not understanding. Finally he opened his eyes wide and the man, proving he was a legilimens, focused on him. 

‘There is a snake on my leg’ he thought as clearly as he could. 

The widening of the eyes was gratifying and the man took his hands off his ears, drawing his wand. A few seconds later it got very breezy as his trousers disappeared.   
There was no snake.   
But he could feel it. “its there!!” he tried to yell.

The auror scowled at him disgustedly but didn’t try to speak.   
He made desperate motions toward his leg and the man’s expression wavered momentarily. Tilting his head up again with wide eyes he screamed internally “it’s there! It’s there! I can feel it. I swear it. There is a snake. Its head is near the top of my knee. Get it off!”   
The Auror looked unsure and peered at his knee, his wand pointed. The man’s hand was just within reach and Antonin grabbed his wrist with his own bound hand to stop him from leaving him.   
The auror reacted aggressively trying to peel his hand off and that was when the snake struck, burying fangs into the muscle above his knee. 

He screamed inaudibly through the alarms, his hand clenching on the auror and then suddenly he could hear the scream and it was deathly silent apart from the scream. He opened his eyes. 

“Fuck..” the blond said, with feeling, from beside him. 

He was now bound to the chair in the centre of a large ring of black hooded and masked figures, in some shady firelit warehouse. The floor was for some reason coated in a thick layer of soft white sand. His knee hurt a bit, but not much.

“For fucks sake – get me off this thing!” he bawled, relieved and afraid at the same time. The snake...hadnt been sent to kill him.. it was some kind of portkey. The Dark Lord probably would kill him when he saw his traitorous reaction to the thought of impending death by poisonous snake.   
In the next second he had the auror’s wand at his neck. “Leave or I’ll kill him” the man threatened and crumpled to the floor a moment later as one of the Death Eaters behind his back shot off a silent stunner. 

Then his arm stopped burning. 

His fear climbed like a rocket making for the outer atmosphere. The Dark Lord was here. They hadn’t released him from the chair. This wasn’t good.   
He felt the cold reptile presence on his leg uncurl itself and slip away. 

“Thank you for saving me, my Lord” he said uneasily. 

Movement behind him alerted him to the Dark Lord’s presence at his back. A cold hand brushed over his shoulder. “I would see your memory, Antonin. Lower your defences.” 

He swallowed and nodded in the silent flicker dimness. He would have to pay for his weakness, he was sure. Hopefully not with his life... but there was nothing else he could do now. Refusing the Dark Lord would definitely condemn him.   
He looked up as the strange serpentine figure glided gracefully around to face him. Then he felt the presence in his mind.   
It was less brutal than usual somehow perhaps. It barely hurt until he got to the end and then it felt like ice needles in his head as the Dark Lord withdrew. The crimson eyes narrowed and he hissed softly. “I will speak with you later about that, Antonin. Your life will not be forfeit, however. And your reaction has brought me this..interesting.. fellow. He may be of use.” 

A very soft siff noise caused the Dark Lord to look up surprised. He turned and walked a few metres away before bending and picking up..nothing.. He looked at the nothing in his hand for a moment smiling.   
“It seems that this fellow became trapped in a cell with the wrong man and bit himself to leave. Clever Ssarka!”   
He stroked at what Antonin realised must be an invisible snake, before draping it around his neck. 

Looking at the ranks of pitiless white masks, the Dark Lord pointed to two. “You – take the auror to the dungeons and see that he is..comfortable.. You – Escort Antonin to the great hall and wait for me.” 

He felt the bindings on his ankles and wrists evaporate and again relief showered him in equal measure with fear. He wouldn’t die.. but he would be punished.   
..on the other hand - he had been saved.   
The Dark Lord had saved him. He deserved to be punished for doubting his master. No doubt he would be punished severely for his betrayal in thought.   
He pulled himself together. He would take whatever punishment the Dark Lord foresaw for him and then he would return to serving his master with pride restored. He would not doubt him again. 

The masked Death Eater took him by the shoulder and the pinch of apparition dragged him away.

 

 

Voldemort watched them go. Two more soft gritty impacts informed him that two more of his little servants had made the decision to return. He moved to collect them, hissing soft praise for them before adding them to the three he already had.   
So far, his snakes had returned to him unharmed - even Ashossstral, who had with great difficulty carried in the dangerous spell in a time release container to the research division. She had landed in the soft sand he’d laid even before he’d received the word that the alarms had gone off, locking down the ministry of magic. He was eminently pleased. For a moment he had thought that the adder had failed. 

He waited patiently and four more snakes returned over the next few minutes. He waited for another five minutes, slowly losing hope that Shhestral would be returning when an auror fell to the sand yelling and clutching his leg. He could hear the snake cursing and hissing angrily.   
::Stupid human! How dare you kick me! Master – this human attacked me! The bad noise has stopped in the place. I could not find the marked one:: 

He stunned the auror who had, it seemed, received a venomous bite. He had instructed his pets to restrain their venom from ‘the marked one’ – this man was not so lucky. Their bite was not fatal but it was painful and could be disabling.   
He indicated to one of the Death Eaters to take the man to the dungeon and picked up his last snake, checking her over for injury. Aside from indignation, she was perfectly healthy and hissed devoted little snake flirtation at him as he stroked her bullet head. 

::You have done very well my sweet:: he informed her. ::I am grateful. You shall have many fat white mice for your discomfort.:: 

His thoughts shifted to the girl..his little apprentice.   
Her idea had been ingenious and perfectly executed. It was a good decision to invite her to the crisis planning. He doubted that he would have received this measure of near effortless success from Lucius, Rodolphus or Yaxley. 

“Lucius..burn the evidence after we have departed” he instructed absently, still stroking the massive weight of invisible adders on his shoulders now. Snakes were fairly dense and ten of them constituted a considerable weight. He could levitate them but he knew they preferred to be close to his body and he wished to reward them for their trouble. 

Turning to the Death Eaters arrayed around him he smiled triumphantly.   
“We have had a great success tonight. A Death Eater was reclaimed from under the Department of Magical Law Enforcement’s nose, from inside the most heavily guarded cells in the Ministry of Magic. With bare hours of planning and no losses whatsoever! We have illustrated their incompetence.   
I will call for a revel to celebrate our victory, my faithful servants. Tomorrow night you shall take your pleasure as you please! .. I will join you in the great hall. You are dismissed.” 

He turned on the spot and reappeared inside the massive reptile environment he had created for his pets. The hot humid air immediately relieved him. He wondered sometimes whether he should not create this atmosphere inside his private rooms. It was always so cold and dry there. Better when he had the warm body of the girl slung around him.. better still in the shower.. but in here it was almost as pleasant as the shower. When he came in here his skin felt wonderful. 

Lowering himself to his knees he let the snakes slip off him, murmuring his thanks. He was greatly relieved that they had all returned safely. He felt a closer bond with these creatures than with his own men. Perhaps it was always so. He remembered pushing Billy Grimes over and kicking him in the throat because he’d stabbed a grass snake with a sharpened stick. He’d only been seven or eight.   
When Hermione had suggested her plan he had seen it was the best option but it had not pleased him as he’d come in here to explain to his protectorate what he desired of them.   
Every snake he had selected had willingly volunteered to help.   
Still.. it had succeeded. His snakes were quite well. He would reward them all generously 

::You will have a buffet the like of which have never been seen, my allies. I shall bring you tender newborn mice and challenging jumping mice and young voles and.. would you like bats? I shall render them flightless.. I know that they are usually difficult for you to obtain:: 

There was a chorus of excited hisses. He stroked different snakes in turn.   
::Tomorrow night you shall feast, my friends.:: They understood and assented; dispersing themselves quickly through the thick grass. 

This area of the environment was arranged in a continental herbological style, although the temperature was Mediterranean. Further into the massive enlarged room there were jungle and desert environments. He even had an artificial salt water lake in which several species lived. This was his favourite place in the castle. He had modelled the charms on the room on his experience in Hogwarts. The ceiling was modelled on the great hall and showed the weather in different world regions. The enlargement charm had been loosely based upon the room of requirement.   
He had been fascinated as a student by the way the room could contain an entire forest.. could have a night sky and a moon when required.   
Knowing it was possible, he had extended the limits of this small room beyond anything seen before. It was a realm in this room. A vast reptile sanctuary. Few species were not represented somewhere. 

Climbing to his feet and sighing, he breathed in the vert air. He had to join the others in the great hall. It was expected. He would prefer it if he could lie down here in this grassy meadow in the warmth and relax but there would be time for that later, he supposed. Another time.   
He would perhaps bring the girl here. She had seemed uneasy about the snakes earlier. Although... she did express an interest in the basilisk.. He narrowed his eyes, looking around the night meadow. He could create a cave system for the basilisk here.. theoretically. He had entombed it when he was younger, having no other safe place for the poor thing, but that was not the case anymore.   
The basilisk would probably be safer here than in the Gadfried canyon system and it would receive many tasty humans in the wake of the revels.   
Perhaps he should..   
He sighed, remembering Dolohov again suddenly. He needed to go and settle the matter. The basilisk was fine where it was for the moment. Turning on the spot, he disapparated.

 

 

Hermione sat uncertainly opposite Rodolphus. After Tom had come and gotten the other man, who had told her his name was Iago (actually losing points with her for being named after a despicable Shakespearean character, even though the man himself seemed nice enough. Certainly nicer than Rodolphus Lestrange), she had been left with Rodolphus.   
It was patently clear to her that the man didn’t like her. He sprawled in the chair opposite, his arms folded, glaring at her. 

At first she had avoided his gaze but after minutes of silence ticked on she looked back at him and tried to maintain a neutral mien. He was a large man – his build was much thicker than Tom’s. He had thick dark brown hair curling down to his shoulders and piercing dark blue eyes. His face was square with a roman nose and rather rugged looking jaw although he was clean shaven.   
She couldn’t put her finger on what it was about him that looked a bit pirate-like.. there was nothing in particular. He was dressed in expensive black robes – which seemed to be something of a uniform here. Yaxley and even Lucius Malfoy had worn them too. 

“How long have you been here?” he demanded suddenly in a soft voice. 

She didn’t reply immediately. 

“Answer, mudblood!” he barked, making her flinch. 

She had heard the word before. Malfoy had used it on her enough to desensitise her, she’d thought.. but the way this man used it, she felt like something he’d scrape off a shoe.. no.. like something he’d have a house elf scrape off a shoe actually. It took all her will to remain calm.   
“It’s not my place to tell you.” She said softly.   
The man sprang to his feet and stalked around the table to loom over her, bending down till his furious snarl was in her face. “It is your place to tell me anything I wish to know. You are a mudblood. You are being addressed by a pureblood of one of the twelve noble houses. You. Will. Answer!” 

She leaned away from him slightly. “No. I won’t. I haven’t been given permission to tell you anything. But you can ask the Dark Lord when he comes back. If he wants you to know, I’m sure he’ll tell you.” 

The man..the Death Eater, her mind reminded her.. drew his wand slowly and leaned in closer.   
“Little girl.. you are far too sure of yourself” he growled “Don’t you know where you are? Who you’re dealing with? I think you should show more respect to your betters.” 

Hermione shivered. The look in his eyes was more than threatening, it was promising. This man was going to hurt her. Very soon. Probably whether she answered his questions or not.   
She remembered the way he and the man next to him had almost vibrated in fury and shock after she’d performed fellatio on the Dark Lord the very first time she had met him in the empty warehouse..   
She wasn’t sure whether he remembered it.   
Possibly not – he’d have behaved differently if he had.   
She needed to act here before she lost the power to. He already had his wand out! He could bind her before she even got a spell off. 

As if on cue, at that moment he said softly, almost seductively “Which pocket is your wand in? Point to it. Slowly now.” 

She froze and looked up at him fearfully. What was he going to do when he had her disarmed?! The cruel pleasure in his eyes didn’t really make it clear. She swallowed and pointed slowly to the pocket with her sphinx wand in it. He’d have to reach across her body. She was using it as her secondary wand at the moment due to all the dark spells she was casting earlier today. 

Smiling like a shark he leaned close and brushed his fingertips over her thigh and up to her pocket. Well. That certainly suggested the direction of his intentions after disarming her, she thought even as her other hand moved surreptitiously to her other pocket, grasping the end of her handle firmly between thumb and forefinger. She’d seen Tom cast with only two fingers on the wand many times when teaching her. It was obviously quite possible.   
It was also a lot more effort, she found as she threw the spell silently and the large man collapsed to the ground smothered in ropes. A second later he cried out in pain as they started tightening.   
She shook her head, smirking.   
“Tried to free yourself, huh? Stay still or you’ll end up in slices.” 

Surprisingly Rodolphus froze immediately and looked up at her with a pained expression. “Can’t.. breathe..” he choked out. The ropes were already cutting into his arms. He was lucky he didn’t have any loops around his neck, she thought to herself.   
She cast Tom’s obedience spell silently and then moved to crouch over Rodolphus, pressing her wand to his temple and silently incanting the countercharm. The ropes dissolved into vapour and the man panted in relief. His arms were quite bloody, thick lines gouged into them. She was about to offer to heal him when he raised his wand and pain flooded through her. She collapsed to the floor whimpering and curling into a ball. 

“Disgusting little animal!” Rodolphus hissed. “casting on me! Deceitful bitch. Do you like the cruciatus? You obviously haven’t had enough of it if you’re behaving like you do.”

She managed to stammer out “Stop!” and the pain dissipated immediately. 

Rodolphus looked astounded, himself and raised his wand once again.

“Put your wand down” she quavered, trying to recover from the shudders and cramping muscles. 

There was a click that she imagined was the sound of Rodolphus putting his wand on the table. 

“What have you done?!” the man yelled at her. A moment later he was on his knees leaning over her as she lay on her back panting, with a face more venomous than anything she’d ever seen.   
He had a knife in his hand and pressed it to her throat.   
“You’re going to tell me how to take off whatever little curse you just put on me and then we’re going to discuss your actions toward me...at length.”   
She felt the blade of the knife slide against her skin gently and there was a sharp bite and a warm feeling.   
“Don’t worry, little mudslut.. If I’d cut your throat I’d be bathing in your blood right now.. Just an incentive. Tell me the countercurse.” 

She looked up from her back into the deep blue eyes. This man was an animal. Barely restrained. It would be nothing for him to slice her open. She nodded carefully, warily.   
He smiled, tensing his hand on the knife at her throat.   
She swallowed and then whispered “dontmove!” 

The shock in his eyes shifted to rage immediately and he roared in frustration. She crawled out from under the knife, sliding herself away with some difficulty. Her entire body ached. He’d held the cruciatus on her for quite a while then. It didn’t feel that long. Pain was timeless, maybe.   
Climbing to her feet she paged through the dark healing spells she’d already practiced. Selecting the one she wanted she moved to Rodolphus and whispered the incantation, feeling her throat heal even as a red bleeding line appeared on his throat.   
Unable to move, he could only growl inarticulately, recognising what she’d done.   
Moving back she sat down in one of the swivel chairs and considered what to do with him. Clearly he was going to attack her at some point for this no matter what she did now.   
She could obliviate him.. but then he’d probably realise he was missing time and besides – he’d just approach her the same way another time.   
Making her choice she smiled.   
“Do not feel compelled to obey anyone else except myself and the Dark Lord! Obey him as you’ve always obeyed him! Never ever betray him! Do not ever tell anyone of this curse! Never attack me or try to hurt me again!”   
She piled orders upon orders, knowing they would all be followed. It was actually quite satisfying. She ended it with “Be polite to me when no one else is around! Find yourself capable of movement again now!” 

Freed, Rodolphus looked up at her with low burning hate in his eyes.   
“That was..clever..of you..girl.” he managed, looking as if he wanted to vomit. 

“Thank you” she said respectfully. “You left me little choice.” 

The man nodded grudgingly and climbed to his feet, walking angrily to the chair next to her and sitting down. He seemed to be engaged in some kind of internal argument.   
After a while he looked up at her and his eyes were clearer. There was less fury in their depths. She wasn’t sure whether he was hiding it or whether he’d resigned himself to the situation. 

“Will you ever release the curse?” he asked quietly. 

After thinking about it she sighed.   
“Probably not – I think you would just kill me if I did. You seem like the kind of person to hold grudges.”   
She caught the dark smirk on the man’s face and added “..But I won’t order you about with it. So long as you don’t betray the Dark Lord and you don’t hurt me, I don’t care what you do.”

Rodolphus looked relieved.   
They sat in almost comfortable silence for a while. 

Hermione looked at the man, who was staring introspectively at the water jug on the table.   
After a minute or so, biting her lip nervously she started.. “I..really can’t tell you anything until the Dark Lord says it’s ok. If I did and he decided he didn’t want you to know – he’d obliviate you and I’m sure you’d rather not have that. But.. you could tell me about yourself? And then I promise I’ll try to convince him to let me answer all the questions you have. Is that fair?” 

The dark man looked at her with a small smirk. “Your promises are worthless to me in light of your betrayal of your allies. Offer me something assured. Something solid.” 

She frowned “My promises are not worthless and I don’t have anything to offer you except information – which I can’t give you until I check with t-the Dark Lord. Take it or leave it.” 

The blue eyes sharpened and he leaned closer.   
“Of course you do... You have your body. ...but I find I’m more interested right now in that strange speech impediment you seem to have when mentioning the Dark Lord.   
You did it earlier too I think.. It wasn’t so noticeable – I thought you were merely nervous.   
But you’re not. You are the most calm and collected little mudblood, if you’ll pardon the term, I have ever seen in the Dark Lord’s domain.   
In his presence you were unafraid..no.. more than that.. you were pleased.. his nearness comforted you. You were more frightened of me than of him.   
In light of your little slip.. I think you might call him something else normally. What might that be?” 

She shook her head numbly, panicking and trying to think of something believable that started with a t. She couldn’t think of any good excuses.   
“It was just a slip of the tongue, my mind was wandering onto something else.” 

Abruptly the man’s manner changed completely. “Alright. I’ll tell you anything you’d like to know about myself and I’ll take your word that you will try to convince the Dark Lord to let you answer all my questions.” 

Hermione tried not to display the almost painful relief she felt.   
“Ok. Um.. how old are you. When did you join the Death Eaters? Why? What do you do here? What do you do when you’re not here? Do you have family?” 

The man held up a hand with a slightly startled expression. “Slowly, girl. You really do not have much experience in interrogation, do you?” 

She bristled. “I’m not interrogating you.. I’m just curious.” 

He snorted.   
“you want information. You are interrogating me. You need to go about it in a different manner but for a start you should work with only one question.. only one area.. at a time.   
You asked what I do here? I do many things here. I am among the best of our Lord’s interrogators and sometimes train novices in this practice if I feel they are worth my time.   
I prepare theatre strategy for the Dark Lord’s campaign. I take part in the standard events that all Death Eaters enjoy here: Revels, Dinners, Balls and the like.   
Sometimes I participate in the highest level missions. I saw you in the ministry of magic, although I doubt you recognise me from there.. although you do recognise me I think. You were lucky with Antonin’s curse. A few inches and you would have been feeding worms now.   
Outside of this domain, I oversee the training of the Dark Lord’s army. I travel between the various divisions and camps.” 

Hermione interrupted “How big is his army?” 

The other man smiled and nodded approvingly. “Around 3000 soldiers, perhaps just under two thousand battle ready.” 

Hermione’s eyes widened automatically “So many?! That’s amazing. How many does the ministry have?” 

The other man lounged deeper in his chair. “Slightly more. They have ten thousand troops scattered across the entire British isles but only around two thousand of them are adequately trained and motivated to fight.” 

“But they have more overall.. How much would it take to make the others ready? At what rate are they each growing?!” 

Rodolphus grinned. “Too many questions at once again.. and you have veered off the topic you initially seemed to want to know more about.. It is easy to do that when the information provided is interesting.   
It would take a lot of effort to make the ministry forces capable of effective defense. Most of their troops are ill equipped and badly organised from a central point. They don’t have enough trainers and the public decries the funds allocated to defense already.   
The Auror ranks are a greater threat than the ministry defense force. The ministry army grows at an average rate of 1-3 recruits per fortnight while ours at a rate of several per week.” 

Hermione smiled, surprised that the Dark Lord was doing so well. The general impression presented in the papers and in gossip was that the ministry was strong and would prevail.   
“How did you become an interrogator and a.. um.. general? Commander?” 

The man rolled his eyes. “The Dark Lord instructed me to.” 

“Why did he choose you?” she responded 

“I was in his good favour, was logical, unmoved by suffering and had battle experience.” 

She frowned. This wasn’t what she wanted to get at. She struggled to think of a way to phrase her question. The man was just being difficult now.   
Huffing she started again. “How old are you now?” 

“Thirty seven” he responded, leaning his head back against the chair and watching her with half lidded eyes. 

“How old were you when you first heard of the Dark Lord?” 

He smirked. “I don’t remember. Young. You are doing better, by the way.” 

“Um..ok.. thanks? How old were you when you decided to join the Death Eaters?” 

He looked away and seemed to be indecisive. “Nine.” He responded finally. 

“Nine?! How is that even possible?! You were a child – how did you even know about any of this!?” 

The other man scoffed at her. “I told you I heard of the Dark Lord at a young age. That is the first time i can consciously remember desiring to become a Death Eater. No doubt there were earlier moments.” 

Hermione frowned and then Malfoy drifted into her mind suddenly. “Your parents were Death Eaters?” she asked, sure now that it was so. 

He nodded. “My father was.” 

Blinking she tried to back up a bit.   
“How old were you when you first met the Dark Lord?”

“Nine.” Rodolphus replied smiling. And then, as if taking pity on her, added “He came to dinner. I was allowed to meet him. I was a little awestruck by him so he transfigured the candlesticks into purple and green fire-breathing fighting dragons. I was extremely impressed.   
He was very nice..he asked me what I thought about this and that. I don’t remember anymore what the topic was – it was more the fact that he was interested in what I thought, that remained.   
Later on, after I had been sent to bed, I decided I wanted to be a Death Eater when I was older.“ 

Hermione felt more than a little surprised. She’d never thought of Tom as taking time with children. She wondered yet again how brilliant a teacher he might have been if Dumbledore hadn’t been such a bastard. Everything might have been so different.   
“When did you take the mark?” she asked absently, her mind still on the image of the small Rodolphus delighted over dragons fighting on the dinner table. 

“You don’t really want to know that” Rodolphus said amusedly. “You want me to tell you more anecdotes like the one that has you nearly mesmerised at present.”

Hermione shifted her eyes to him, and blushed. “Yes. Is that wrong?”

He laughed loudly. “You’re asking me if you’re questioning me wrongly? Yes. Entirely. But you’re not boring me. I’ll tell you the story then.. just for that expression you wore a moment ago.”   
He looked at her with strangely soft eyes.   
“I took the mark when I was sixteen. The Dark Lord refuses to mark any of his servants before that age. I had already asked him three times so when I finally received an invitation I was overjoyed. Lucius, Avery and Mulciber were also going to be taking the mark. They were in my year.. in my house.. We were perhaps friends.” 

“Perhaps?” she interjected curiously. 

The man nodded. “Slytherins don’t really have friends..we have allies. They were somewhat more than allies, slightly less than what you might consider friends. So it was even better to be taking the mark together with them than it otherwise might have been. We wouldn’t be facing the trials alone, as it were.”

Seeing the confused look on her face he stopped and smirked again.   
“You have no idea what’s involved in becoming a Death Eater, do you?” he asked in a low smug voice. 

She shook her head, slightly worried by the implications of ‘trials’.. did he mean trials as in.. like.. witch trials or court trials.. or did he mean like..tasks..missions..quests.. 

“Perhaps I should not tell you.. after all – if the Dark Lord wished you to know, I’m sure he would have told you..” He sneered slightly at her scowl and continued “Besides..no muggleborn has ever been invited to take the mark. So it’s something you are unlikely to face.” 

She looked away, telling herself not to be so offended all the time. It just seemed worse when he was being relatively nice and then he came out with some slur.   
“Fine.” She said shortly. “it doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll ask him later.” 

Rodolphus looked at her, an unreadable expression on his face. “You actually will, won’t you?! And you’re so certain you’ll see him later...”   
His eyes widened slightly and he swallowed, sitting up straight suddenly. “It’s not possible. He wouldn’t! Not with...someone like you.. It can’t be! Tell me why you are so certain you will see him later? Where do you stay in the castle? What have you been doing since you arrived here?” 

She glanced at him blankly and responded “Far too many questions at once.. You’re going about it all wrong! Besides.. I’ve already told you I can’t tell you anything without his permission. I am quite certain I will see him later – obviously – because I can’t get out of this room without him.” She turned away again, rocking back in the chair.   
‘I’m not sulking’ she told herself unconvincingly.   
She couldn’t resist a final jab. “You know that I could just order you to tell me. I’m not going to, of course – I said I wouldn’t. I could also torture it out of you since you can’t fight back any more – I expect it would probably take a really..really long time to get anything out of you that way anyway, but even if that weren’t the case, I wouldn’t do that either. All I’m saying is – you don’t have to be an arse when I’m deliberately not being one to you.”   
She heard herself huff sulkily and cringed. 

There was an irritated exhalation on her left.   
“The initiation.. is – I’m assuming you want to hear this so you might at least pay attention – is a large scale ceremony” 

She turned her chair back to him, looking sheepish and risked a glance at his face. He didn’t look too annoyed, she decided and tentatively returned to watching him speak with full attention. The dark blue eyes glinted like sapphire chips.   
“It is attended by the inner and outer circles and may be attended by supporters or other lower ranks depending upon just who is being initiated.   
As three noble families and four great families were to be embraced into the fold, it was a massive ceremony on that day. I entered the amphitheatre with only Lucius and Bella – the noble families were to initiate first.   
Bella was two years older than Lucius and I. Her initiation had only been approved by her family after Lucius had become engaged with Narcissa. Abraxas Malfoy bought the Black family’s official support for the Dark Lord with the offer of marriage alignment between the Malfoys and Blacks. So Bella was able to have what she wanted most and her youngest sister was virtually disowned for her opposition.   
I don’t think Narcissa cared one way or the other about the Dark Lord. Perhaps she still doesn’t. She wanted Lucius; his blood, his power – he essentially ruled while we were at Hogwarts.   
She was only fifteen but their parents signed a contract promising them to one another.   
Lucius..obeyed his father. I don’t know if he cared either way. He was always very closed mouth about it.” 

Hermione listened fascinated. It was funny – Rodolphus was extremely easy to listen to. She wondered if it was his voice. Professor Snape had always been so good to listen to.   
No.. it wasn’t his voice exactly. Maybe his eyes. His dark, dark, blue eyes were sharp and bright.   
That could be it. She nodded, eager for him to go on. 

“Tell me why you chose to leave your friends..” Rodolphus commanded softly. “I won’t speak of it.. I simply want to understand.” 

She swallowed. “The trials.. ” 

He spoke even more gently. “In a moment. But tell me why first, Hermione..” 

She looked away and sighed, wavering indecisively. What would it matter if she just told him that?! It wasn’t as if it mattered really why she had left. She hesitated. The memory of Tom flickered through her mind.. holding her.. ‘i find.. i do not wish to hurt you’... he’d been so tender after that. What had hurt the first time had felt so good by the time he was done.. but she kept coming back to his words.. ‘i do not wish to hurt you’.. and the surprise he had shown as he’d said them.   
“No. I don’t need to know then” she said decisively. “I’m not going to tell you anything unless he allows me to. “ She stood up from the chair and paced off to the end of the room. 

Pulling one of the chairs away from the table, she transfigured it, with a little difficulty, into a lazyboy, seating herself and stretching it out so that she could curl up in it. Tempus showed that it was getting on for one am. Where was Tom? Had something happened? Had he forgotten her?   
He wouldn’t forget her.   
Probably.   
She wrapped her head in her arms, curled into a little ball and tried to ignore Rodolphus and go to sleep. 

 

 

Antonin lay in a puddle of his own blood before Voldemort felt satisfied.   
He had had no doubt that the man would never waver in his faith again, but it was important to dispense appropriate punishment so that his servant would understand that the matter was settled. 

Then there was the girl..

Nott’s son had proven himself capable and a blonde waif was levitated into the grand hall and enervated at his feet.   
She didn’t seem at all surprised, which was troubling..   
She didn’t seem at all bothered which was downright peculiar.   
“Oh hello. You’re Lord Voldemort!” she’d said with an asylum smile. He had not known quite what to do with that. What did one say. ‘Yes.’?! 

He’d asked whether she knew why she was here and she’d told him that it was so that Harry would feel alone and her daddy would stop fighting.   
She informed him that Harry wasn’t alone though and that her daddy wouldn’t stop fighting either, but that she found it very interesting to be here anyway.   
He’d been surprised.   
Upon asking what she thought might happen to her now, she had promptly responded that she’d be sent to a nice room overnight. 

He’d nearly fallen over. 

When he queried ‘not the dungeons, then? Why not?” She’d explained with a vaguely spaced out expression as she craned her neck looking all around at the grand hall, that he would put her in a room because he didn’t know whether she could be useful yet and the dungeon was dangerous for young girls and besides – he wanted her to think well of him.   
She’d said that. Her.   
She hadn’t needed to say the name - He’d immediately thought of Hermione and it infuriated him to realise she was right.   
He’d obliviated the other three people remaining in the room (the Death Eaters had been dismissed before Antonin’s punishment) and had banished her to an empty bedroom. He’d deal with the issue of how she had known the things she had stated so matter of factly tomorrow. It was late. Almost three am He wanted to go and retrieve Hermione and go to bed. Rodolphus had better have looked after her well. He had specifically instructed at the meeting that no one was to touch the girl. If he found anything untoward he would not bother with reprimands. 

Apparating into the room he found a strange sight. Hermione was sleeping on an extending lounger of some kind and Rodolphus was sitting by her side, seemingly watching her.   
He cast a silencing spell around the girl and stalked over to the pair.   
“You have a cut on your neck, Rodolphus.” He observed with narrowed eyes. “You did not have it earlier. What exactly went on here? I expected you to refrain from attacking the girl but it does surprise me to find you watching over her as she sleeps.” 

The dark haired man looked up to him and he sensed the sudden spike of fear from him. 

“I..did attack her, my Lord. She bested me. I tried to get information out of her. She refused. She seems..very loyal to you” 

Rage and pride swelled in Voldemort. “You disobeyed an order I gave you only this evening.. What did you do? No. I will see for myself.”   
He cast an impedimenta upon Rodolphus and forced his way through the occlumentic barriers, digging out the memory of the evening.   
When he had finished watching it he found that pride and satisfaction had overwhelmed most of his rage. His little apprentice had defeated one of the strongest among his Death Eaters. He pulled out of the mans mind, smirking down at him.   
“You realise she owns you now?! At a word she could have you slit your own throat...”

Rodolphus looked pained. “Yes. I...know. My Lord.. what..” He trailed off, obviously thinking better of the question he had been about to impudently ask. 

Voldemort had observed the man’s distress in the memory at the thought that Voldemort himself could be even remotely physically involved with Hermione. He narrowed his eyes.   
“Tell me your impressions of the girl, Rodolphus” 

The other man turned away to look at the sleeping girl. Curls spilled over her shoulders and her face was so much younger in sleep. A child almost. 

“She is clever..even a little cunning. Idealistic - terribly Gryffindor. Determined. Strong and magically highly capable.. but very innocent. It is a shame about her blood status.” 

Voldemort snorted, amused.   
“I believe you forgot ‘attractive, alluring and forbidden’ in your little list. I have seen your memory. I am aware of your reaction to her.. and your resentment of her for it. I doubt she even realised. She is indeed very innocent yet. She killed Gorlich this morning.” 

His servant’s head shot up in surprise, a questioning expression on his face.

“Strangulation hex. She has practiced it since then. I assume that the problem is solved now. She is my apprentice, Rodolphus. She came desperately yearning to learn from me, or to serve me in any way possible if I would not have her.   
I found myself amenable to..having her. She learns more rapidly than any I have met. I am teaching her dark magic..among other things. Admire her innocence while it lasts.” 

The other wizard turned back to Hermione, tilting his head slightly to watch her.   
“She is..your concubine..then, my Lord?” 

Voldemort tilted his head similarly, looking down at her. Minutes passed in which he considered the question.   
Was that what Hermione was?   
Clearly. How could she be more? She was an amusement, nothing more.   
It felt wrong nonetheless.   
Finally he sighed. “I am yet undecided what she is. You will not speak of this to any other. Particularly Bella.” 

“No my Lord.” Rodolphus said quietly. He hesitated for a moment and then spoke uneasily. “You mentioned she had brought you a powerful gift..”

Voldemort smiled wanly. “The sword of Gryffindor.” 

Rodolphus whistled low in surprise.   
“No way back after that then..”

Voldemort snorted slightly. “I sent her back. To spy. The manner in which she had stolen it led me to believe that she might not be suspected. However mere days later, Dumbledore abducted, tortured and nearly killed her. Retrieving her was difficult.”   
Rodolphus said nothing.   
After a minute, Voldemort moved past him and leaned down, sliding his arms beneath the girl to lift her up. She half woke and smiled sleepily, wrapping her own arms around his neck.   
“You’re ok. I was worried.” She yawned as she was lifted. He was surprised again how little she weighed. 

“I am well. I was in no danger. Antonin was retrieved successfully. You did very well, Hermione. You pleased me today.”   
He glanced at Rodolphus who was wearing a strange expression watching them.

“The snakes?” she mumbled, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Are all well also” he told her, and watched a relieved little smile light her face even as she drifted off to sleep again in his arms.   
She had been concerned about his pets, even if she had feared them.. He wanted to kiss her but was uncomfortable showing that much affection in front of the wizard currently scrutinizing him.   
“Did you have a pleasant conversation with Rodolphus, Hermione?” he enquired, curious how she would respond. She nodded weakly and then mumbled something ending in trials.   
He smirked. “I will tell you when you wake. If you remember.” 

At that she picked her head up and blinked hard, cracking her eyes open and struggling to focus. “M’awake. What are the trials?” she managed, her eyes dropping closed every few seconds and her head nodding.   
He heard Rodolphus snigger and looked down at the man, seeing the grin fade slowly off his face into a troubled expression.   
“My Lord.. are you going to initiate her?” he asked in a low whisper, so as not to wake the girl again. 

He looked down at the pale soft creature in his arms and experienced a tug in both directions. “I have not decided. Not soon if at all. It will depend upon many factors, not least of which - how she develops. She has proven herself valuable today. But I think it will take considerably more to persuade most of my servants to ignore her blood status. Time will tell.” 

He paused for a moment, examining the dark eyes and thoughtful expression of the other man.   
“Come speak with me before the revel tonight, my servant. I see that there is much on your mind.. Much you need to think about before you are ready to discuss your concerns.”

Rodolphus looked startled and then pleased “There will be a revel tonight? You are generous my Lord. I look forward to it.”   
His eyes slid then, seemingly against his will back down to the sleeping girl cradled in his master’s arms. “Will..”

He cut him off. “Probably not. In addition to the obvious problems associated, I rather doubt she would be at all eager to attend, given the choice.” He thought he detected a faint note of disappointment flit through the other man’s eyes and made a note to keep an eye on Rodolphus around Hermione. The man could no longer attack or harm her but he might be inclined to try to seduce her when he resolved his internal conflict over her blood impurity.   
That would not be tolerated. 

With a final glance Voldemort turned on the spot, apparating with the girl through the wards back to his bedroom, divestoing their clothing almost without thinking and placing her gently into the bed.   
She immediately turned toward him and as soon as he had climbed beneath the sheets and pulled the covers up, she was pressed against him, her warm body heating his own.   
He let his eyes fall closed in pleasure, enjoying the way she gravitated toward him, her leg and arm wrapped around his body. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, enfolding his arm around her and murmured against her hair. “You pleased me greatly, Hermione. I was ..proud..of you today.”   
The girl emitted a soft mmmm and snuggled against him slightly. Smiling, he let himself relax and followed her into sleep.


	19. Chapter 19

Lying on his bed with the curtains drawn and a silencing charm enveloping them, Draco pushed the dark head at his groin deeper, ignoring the resistence and muffled yelp of protest. 

Useless. No matter how often she did this Pansy was just a lousy cocksucker.   
She didn’t like it and made it clear that she was only doing it as a favour – which was fine, but she was so bloody gingerly about it. She made a face like she was doing something disgusting, even if she tried to disguise it with that ridiculous attempt to look sultry.   
She gagged if he even brushed the back of her throat, her mouth was held wide as if she were trying not to touch him with her tongue and she cried if he tried to make the best of a poor showing and just fucked her mouth. 

Pushing her down deeper he ignored her protest and struggled to get off on the feeling.   
Ugh.. it was just a waste of time.. 

He used Pansy because she was always there, always panting after him. She would prefer him to fuck her, obviously – but he didn’t always want that.. besides.. she was almost as lousy a fuck as she was a cocksucker. Bloody frigid bint. She was convenient.. and that was about it. Getting one of the others required a small amount of effort to charm them, even if the payoff was much greater.   
With Pansy he didn’t have to bother with that. He could order her into the boys bathroom and down onto her knees at a moment’s notice. 

He’d given her a charmed bracelet to tell her when to come into his room. He’d gotten the idea from the dark mark. This morning he’d felt like a blow job and summoned her and now he was feeling more frustrated than before. He’d have been better off just using his hand.   
His mother had told him that he was supposed to marry Pansy after he graduated.   
Well that wouldn’t be happening.   
He was not going to put up with a lousy fuck for a wife for the rest of his life. Not even if he was free to go and have a bit on the side whenever he liked. 

Oh Merlin. Now the silly bitch was crying again. This was just more than anyone could be expected to put up with, really!   
He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her off his prick.   
“Get out.” He growled. 

Pansy looked up at him with wide wet eyes. “What?!” she sobbed. 

“OUT!” he raged. “Get the fuck out Pansy. Go clean yourself up – you look like shit. I’ve had enough of you. Get the fuck out of my room and don’t come back unless I call you.”   
He pushed her away and sat up, ignoring the shocked hurt look on her narrow face. She was so sharp and pointy with her skinny face and her straight shoulder length black hair. Sometimes she reminded him a bit of his godfather even.   
That thought was just disgusting. 

He got out of bed, continuing to ignore the girl who still sat frozen, as if hoping he’d take it back. Gathering his things he went and took a shower. When he came back she was gone.   
Good. ‘That at least’, he fumed.   
He dressed absent thought and collected his books, ready to go up to breakfast. He was just walking out of the portrait hole when a disembodied hand descended upon his shoulder.   
Jumping half a foot and skittering away from the hand, his mind finally made the connection and he glared poisonously at the empty space where he supposed Potter was standing.

“What the fuck are you doing down here! No. Don’t talk. Follow me. You better hope that nobody else saw you come down here or you’ll regret it!” 

Instead of heading up toward the stairs he walked deeper into the dungeons, taking several turns until he was in a darker unused corridor. Nobody came down here anymore. It was all unused storage.   
He slipped through a door into a pitch black room, holding it open for a second to let Potter follow. 

When a faint cough informed him that the twit had followed he closed the door and put up half a dozen warding, silencing and impervious spells. Nobody would be watching or listening in on their conversation if he had anything to say about it.   
Lighting a lumos, finally he demanded “Well?! What the fuck did you think you were you doing waiting for me outside the Slytherin common room?!”

A second wand flared to life and Potty was lit from below, great shadows from his glasses stretching over his face. 

“I need more.. You have to go to Vol” 

Draco hissed at him “Don’t say his name, scarhead! Don’t you have any sense?!” 

The other boy blinked and frowned and then suddenly exclaimed. “I knew it!! You’ve taken the dark mark, haven’t you?! That’s why you’re scared. The only other person who reacts like that to his name is..was Snape.” 

Draco scowled and sneered back. “You’re just guessing and you’ll never know for sure, Potter. Remember – YOU want something from ME - which I might or might not decide to give you so you should show a bit more respect!” 

There was silence for a moment as the two glared at each other. 

Potter broke first. “Fine! I need you to go to..him..now.. and get more memories.. I want to see Snape.. and I want to see what happened after the last memory he sent.” 

Draco frowned. What happened in the last memory ?!   
He asked this and Potter’s face blanked. 

“He’ll know what I mean . And there’s something else I need to ask about.. I..” the boy hesitated. Draco could almost smell his concern and indecision. He wanted to know what the memory had been about but he wanted to know even more what was causing this worry on the bloody boy hero’s face. No doubt it was something serious. If he couldn’t use it against him himself, probably the Dark Lord would be very pleased with him for bringing the information. 

“Yeah?” he asked almost kindly. “What do you need to ask?” 

Potter swallowed and bit his lip. Draco’s eye was drawn to it. He looked a lot younger with this expression in the dark. He was reminded of the boy he’d been in first year when his father had instructed him to befriend Harry Potter and he’d failed. Potter had humiliated him in front of everyone. And he’d kept doing it over and over every year since.   
He hadn’t understood in first year. It had hurt when he’d extended a hand of friendship and been degraded for it. He swore he’d make him pay. 

The green eyes were black in the dark as Potter appraised him uncertainly. “I..” 

Draco waited patiently, not daring to say anything in case he said the wrong thing and made Potter change his mind about whatever was so important. In that moment the boy lowered his eyes and shook his head   
“Nothing.. It..doesn’t matter. Just the memories” 

Draco felt anger well up in him. Fuck. He wanted whatever it was that Potter didn’t want to say.   
“Why should I do that for you, Potter? What are you going to do for me? Every time I go there, I risk my life you know – and I risk Dumbo finding out – which my father would kill me over. And now you want me to skive off and go there on a Friday morning?! With no notice?! Why can’t you wait till tomorrow?!” 

Potter looked angry and conflicted. “I..I just can’t.. I need to know now..” His eyes wavered left and right and then he glanced up briefly. Draco almost started at the desperation in them. What exactly had the Dark Lord shown him?! He looked like an addict needing the next potion. A dark smug satisfaction welled up inside Draco. 

“You really need it, huh..” he asked innocently.. like a single fin on a surf beach. 

Harry bit his lip and released it before looking up and swallowing. “Yes. ..Please Malfoy.. go now, ok?”   
It looked like that please cost him a lot.   
Draco felt the absolute power that Potter just gave him. Now that his godfather was gone, he was the only way Potter could get whatever memories he seemed to want from the Dark Lord. He really was desperate.   
..How desperate, he wondered. 

“Get on your knees, Potter.” He said in a low growl that brooked no argument. 

He saw the Saviour of the Light’s eyes widen and his mouth fall open in surprise. “What?! No! What the hell! No! Get stuffed Malfoy!” 

Draco snarled at the response. True.. he didn’t actually want to do that with Potter.. but he wanted to make him agree to it. He wanted to know that the famous hero – the purer than the driven snow tosser that everyone in the school worshipped was willing to drop to his knees and suck him off on command.

“Do you want me to go to the Dark Lord or not, Potter?! Cause I could be having my cornflakes right now. I’ll end up with a detention if I ditch transfiguration. A round of cruciatus in the morning and that dry old bag McGonagall glaring at me for an hour this evening, just to light up your face in childlike happiness. Why the fuck should I do that for you?! What have you ever done for me?! Get down on your fucking knees or stop wasting my time!”   
He glared at the visibly shocked boy and then made as if to leave. 

“NO!” Potter stopped him, his hand on Draco’s arm. Draco looked down at it and raised an eyebrow in distaste, sneering.   
“Wait!..” Potter said, his voice not only laced with desperation but now tinged with despair too. 

Inside Draco was giggling in delight. Oh how the mighty had fallen. Any minute now and Potty would drop to his knees and submit to whatever Draco commanded. This was like some kind of dream.   
He resisted the urge to pinch himself.   
“I’m listening” he said irritatedly.

Potter’s face was a mask of misery. “Swear that if I do, you’ll go to him for me when I ask from now on.” 

Draco snorted in amusement. “No. This is a one-time deal. Good for today. Right now in fact. You want me to go back again later, we’ll renegotiate. Gifts from the Dark Lord are free, but your demands are going to cost you from now on and they’ll cost more when they’re a pain in the arse for me. That’s the way it is, Potter.” 

He scrutinised the wandlit face of his enemy and ..yes.. there it was! right then.. he could actually see the exact moment when Potter cracked. 

“Ok. Fine.. it’s not like I have a choice.” The boy muttered angrily, looking away. 

Oh Salazar no. He wasn’t getting off that easily.   
“You have a choice, Potter. You can walk away. I’m not twisting your arm. You want something. I’m naming a price. You’re willing to pay or you’re not. Think of it as a business transaction..” 

Potter looked at him in horror. He smirked back. ‘Yes Potter – I’m calling you a whore. Now prove to me that you are one’ he thought gleefully.   
“Its your choice.” He said simply. 

He watched as the extreme aversion washed over the other boy’s face visibly. He really, really didn’t want to do this.   
And yet! Draco watched, enthralled, as the boy who lived got down onto his knees in front of him, his head bowed and hidden in darkness.   
The thrill, the triumph of the situation was like a physical thing beating in his chest. He wished he had a camera to preserve the moment for posterity. ...perhaps Potter would want something more in the future and he...   
...but that would rest upon actually carrying out his little deal now.   
He hadn’t really thought about that. He didn’t go for other guys.   
On the other hand.. it was dark.. He could pretend it was someone else if it felt weird. 

He allowed a hand to slip down and stroke over his cock through his robe. He was actually surprised to find himself half hard already. He’d been a bit excited over putting Potter in his place but he hadn’t really noticed his pants tightening. Maybe it was just because Pansy had left him frustrated.   
He unfastened his robe one handed, still holding his lit wand, and then stroked over his cock again through his trousers, feeling himself harden fully. 

He was going to do it.   
He was going to shove his cock down the throat of the boy who bloody lived and choke him with it. He wasn’t gay or anything but an exception would just have to be made in light of the beautiful perfection of this situation. 

Unfastening his trousers he got himself out and ran a hand up and down his shaft lightly, teasing himself. Then he pointed his wand at Potter’s face, enjoying the way the boy flinched away from it.   
It illuminated glistening tear tracks down his cheek.   
Draco thought he might die from pleasure.   
“Stop snivelling and get on with it, Potter, if you’re going to do it. And if I feel teeth – I’ll see that I don’t find you till lunch when I get back.” 

The other boy didn’t meet his eyes but turned toward him, looking up to about groin level and seeming to muster the cock pointed at his face with horrified fascination.   
Draco watched, if anything more hypnotised by the emotions blatantly being displayed on Potter’s face.   
The other boy raised a hand and tentatively gripped him at the base. It felt..different to how girls tended to touch him. More familiar if anything. More like the way he gripped himself.   
He was still thinking about that when Potters tongue suddenly traced up the underside of his cock, making him flinch and making his prick twitch.   
It felt good. He was surprised.   
Swallowing, he watched as Potter did it again, suppressing a shiver as the tip of the other boy’s tongue ran up and through the slit at the tip. Fuck.. Potter was sucking lightly up the sides of his shaft and it felt amazing. No one had ever done it quite like that before. He realised with horror that this wasn’t Potter’s first time sucking cock!   
Maybe he’d gotten down on his knees for half the sixth year and Draco hadn’t realised. 

At that moment his thought melted briefly as the head of his penis was sucked into a hot tight mouth and a tongue circled around it.   
“fuck..” he breathed, thrusting slightly with his hips against the mouth.   
Potter obliged and took him deeper, beginning to suck up and down slowly. His mouth felt so tight and hot and slippery. He realised with horror that Potters mouth actually felt better than Pansy’s pussy.  
Groaning softly, he reached out a hand for the head at his groin.   
It felt weird the way the hair was so short when he gripped it. He felt a hum around his prick as he did, too. Potter liked having his hair pulled? 

He had let his other hand with the wand fall even as his head had fallen back. He didn’t need to see. From the moment the hot mouth started sucking on him he found his care about watching Potter’s degradation dropping off rapidly. Right now he just wanted to feel that hot suction moving up and down..   
He dragged Potter deeper by his hair and the boy choked slightly but didn’t stop moving. Beautiful!   
It was when he felt fingertips lightly stroke over his balls that he suddenly lost it. He hissed, swearing again breathlessly, and felt himself tipping over the precipice. 

Unbelievably, Potter, apparently realising it, suddenly sucked him harder and deeper.   
He groaned loudly as he shot his load into the other boy’s throat. His mind reeled and he swayed on his feet, his knees suddenly weak.   
He felt Potter swallow.   
He actually swallowed his cum..   
Draco felt dizzy suddenly and crashed to his knees as if felled, only remaining upright due to sudden arms around him.

“Malfoy!” Potters voice hissed, sounding concerned. 

He shook his head slightly and forcibly pulled himself back together.   
“Let go, Potter.” He hissed in the unbroken darkness. His wand had gone out at some point. Thank Merlin he hadn’t dropped it. 

Even after the arms had withdrawn, he could feel Potter’s presence in front of him, the faint movements in the air from his breath. Shit.. he could smell his own semen on the boy’s breath.   
He really did it. He just got Potter to suck him off. Saggy Hags tits. He didn’t know what to think about this. 

“Fine. I’ll go right now. Tell McGonagall I was called away to a family emergency if she asks. She probably won’t. She’ll just mark me down in that bloody book and send me a detention slip by elf. Fucking bitch. She has a thing against Slytherins. You think you had it bad with Snape – half the teachers are against Slytherins. McGonagall, Flitwick, Bins, Pomfrey, even that oaf Hagrid – you’ve got no idea how-“   
He didn’t get any further in his little rant to relieve the tension he felt inside, because his words were suddenly smothered by lips pressed against his. 

“!!!!” he squeaked in shock. Potter was bloody kissing him.   
He blinked and then pushed the other boy back as hard as he could. 

“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, POTTER?!! I’m not your fucking boyfriend! This was just business. You wanted an owl to the Dark Lord and I wanted to get off. Don’t get confused and think I want to hold your hand or anything. Ugh.”   
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Disgusting. He could almost taste his own semen now.   
Getting to his feet he lit his wand. It displayed the boy who lived still sprawled back on his elbows, looking even more confused and disgusted than he felt himself, if that was even possible. 

“I’ll go now. Meet me by the statue of the one eyed witch after transfiguration. If I’m not there and I don’t come in to charms late then meet me there at lunchtime. Hopefully I’ll be there after transfiguration but..you never know with him.” 

He didn’t wait for any response but dropped all the wards quickly and slid out of the room, leaving Potter in the dark. His mind was still reeling and he wanted to be far away as soon as humanly possible. 

Instead of taking the normal exit he went down into the deeper dungeons and used the hidden exit Slytherins had been using to sneak out after hours for centuries. Casting a disillusionment charm he hurried down to the forbidden forest, running through the dim horrible place as quickly as he could, to the point from which he could apparate.   
He hated having to use the forest. It was creepy in here and there were horrible things. You never knew if you might be attacked by a redcap or an erlking or worse. He preferred to apparate from the road to Hogsmeade but since Potter was in such a bloody hurry... 

As he ran he fumbled at the button of his school shirt till he could shove his wand up his sleeve and activate his mark. The apparition point was just up ahead. He jumped over some roots on the ground and jogged through the leaves to the blue marker that denoted the edge of the Hogwarts wards. 

The forest around him was silent.   
Absolutely silent.   
It was not good when that happened. Something big was around here somewhere.   
He hoped whatever it was it was hunting something else and not him. 

Come on, come on, he urged his quiescent mark. Burn already. He considered activating it again, but that would definitely earn him a punishment. 

He looked around himself suspiciously. It was gloomy and dim. He couldn’t see that far. His wand gripped tightly, a confringo ready to release, the oppressive atmosphere grew heavier but did not produce horrible creatures ambushing him.   
Finally he felt his mark burn. 

Relieved, he apparated at once, promising himself he’d return via the road to Hogsmeade. 

He reappeared in the Dark Lord’s study, somewhat disorientated, turning to find the Dark Lord seated at his desk. 

He looked annoyed. 

Gulping, Draco dropped to his knees immediately.   
“Sorry,my Lord. I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Potter was waiting outside the common room and begged me to come to you immediately.   
He..he wants more memories. He said he needed them. He was desperate.” 

The snake face looking at him blinked and the annoyance dissipated somewhat. “Show me” he demanded.

Draco cringed. Oh no! No he didn’t want this. He’d have to experience it all over again while the Dark Lord watched..oh this was just not good. 

“Malfoy! What are you dithering about?! Come here!” 

He flinched and found himself automatically rising to his feet and moving toward the Dark Lord, getting down on his knees before him. It seemed that no matter what his mind might want, his body wanted to not be crucioed right now. He allowed the thin white fingers of the man to tilt his face to the angle he preferred and then there was that terrible familiar presence in his mind. Memories flashed and then he was waking up again.   
He relived his day as if a white serpentine spectre were stalking him everywhere, feeling the dark amusement of the man at Pansy’s pathetic blowjob, at his enormous flinch at Potter’s hand outside the Slytherin common room.   
The Dark Lord stood by his side in the dark room, lit by torchlight as he spoke with Potter. The man moved closer to Potter and seemed to examine him like a bug on a slide as the other boy very nearly begged.   
He shot a surprised glance back at Draco when he ordered Potter to his knees but seemed amused rather than annoyed, to Dracos overwhelming relief.   
When after a bit of dithering and ranting Potter dropped to his knees and then started to actually suck him off, Draco became uncomfortably aware of the Dark Lords delight. The man crouched on his haunches and scrutinised Potter. Afterward he stood with a large sinister smirk and when Potter kissed him he burst into laughter.   
Cruel laughter.   
The rest of the memory was scanned through rapidly to the moment of apparition before the Dark Lord pulled out. 

Draco observed the pleased smile on his Lord’s face now. Obviously doing that to Potter wasn’t a problem.   
The man, he realised was still looking down into his eyes. 

“No. Not a problem at all, Draco. In fact.. I would like you to pursue this.” 

Draco furrowed his brow feeling an uneasy queasiness in his gut suddenly. “Pursue it, my Lord??” he asked fearfully.   
The smile on the serpentine face grew broader and more sinister if possible. 

“Yes. I want you to seduce him. Take his mind off his poor missing professor and his lost best friend. I want you to make Potter fall in love with you, Draco.” 

Draco felt his heart suddenly beat at double time and he saw spots. Fuck.. he knew it was a bad idea. Oh Merlin. Oh Salazar.   
He couldn’t do that.   
He.. he didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want Potter..touching him...like that. Or kissing him.. Merlin! 

“I..” he choked out, terrified. He couldn’t say no to the Dark Lord. You didn’t just say no – I can’t. I don’t want to.   
He felt himself starting to hyperventilate and looked away in desperation. 

“Now now, Draco. You are being overdramatic. You enjoyed your little experiment with Potter. I know that you did. This simply means ...extending that experiment somewhat. The boy has no one at present. It should be pathetically simple for you to make him cling to you.” 

Draco looked up at the crimson eyes helplessly. “but..” he started and got no further. 

“Or you may kill him.. if you prefer. I’ll leave it up to you. Both would suit my purposes.”   
The red eyes seemed to measure him and find him lacking as the thin mouth smirked at him.   
“Would it be easier for you to get over your squeamishness of men or your aversion to killing, I wonder. Well – you will manage one or the other or you will find yourself servicing all takers at the next revel.” The Dark Lord paused thoughtfully. “Well the next revel after the one taking place tonight, that is.” 

Draco’s eyes widened. “There’s a revel tonight? I did not hear of one. .. May I come, my Lord? I don’t mean to.. to.. what you said.. but just.. to attend?”   
He urgently wanted to come. He hadn’t been allowed to take part in a revel yet.   
There would be muggle girls he could do what he liked to and his father would be pleased with him if he was there and took part. 

The Dark Lord’s smirk, if anything, grew wider.   
“You may attend Draco.. only if you succeed in persuading Potter to kiss you and fellate you again by the end of the school day.   
If you arrive tonight, be prepared to show me the memory or you will be punished and sent away.” 

Draco felt his stomach clench. Did he really want to attend that badly? He wasn’t sure. Kissing Potter.. ugh.. just thinking about it was enough to bring up his breakfast – if he’d had any.

“I see you have a difficult decision, Draco. Go and sit down and wait and I shall prepare Potter his ‘fix’.” 

Draco climbed to his feet and stumbled over to the sofa, sitting down and staring at the flames in the fireplace. His mind was kind of stuck in pause, it seemed. He couldn’t really think, just stared numbly.   
All too soon the Dark Lord was shaking his shoulder roughly and pushing a tiny beautifully wrapped package into his hands. 

“There. Go! Give Potter what he so desperately wants. Perhaps I shall see you later tonight, if you prove capable. I am certain your father would be proud if you attended... and even more pleased upon learning how you secured an invitation. He is quite skilled in these areas, you know. It was he who brought Severus to my service originally. But I digress... Return to Hogwarts and deliver your package.” 

Draco nodded blankly and stood, taking a couple of steps before apparating to the bushes at the side of the road a short way away from the gates of Hogwarts. He wandered on autopilot back up to the school, barely remembering to disillusion himself before he trudged up the way and back into the castle. 

He found himself sitting by the one eyed witch waiting, still disillusioned, when Potter turned up and stood in the shadow of the stairs, eyes alight with nervous anticipation. Taking the opportunity, he moved closer and inspected the boy wonder. He looked more than a little shaken, although he was trying to keep a blank face.   
He was.. different.. in the light.. in colour. With green eyes and pink lips and the Gryffindor shield all over him. He was Potter like this..  
This morning in the dark he’d been..something else. He didn’t know. Not the same. 

Swallowing against the knot in his throat he forced himself to reach out, still disillusioned and brush his hand over Potters. The boy jumped nearly a foot and then got himself back under control, glaring in the wrong direction at where he supposed Draco to be. 

“Jumpy, Potter?” Draco whispered. “Now you know how I felt this morning. Meet me in the room of requirement” He turned away, not bothering to see whether Potter would follow and hurried through the halls, keeping to the edges away from students.   
When he reached the fifth floor he was irritated to find Potter was there ahead of him. The door was just closing and he managed to slip in behind him.   
Inside he was surprised. There were two chairs opposite one another and a pensieve on a table next to one.   
Potter seemed to pause too. 

“Draco?” he called uncertainly. 

Draco took a step closer behind him and Potter felt the proximity and spun, wide eyed.

“What are you doing?! Why didn’t you just hand the bloody thing over. Why do you need to be here at all?!”   
Potter seemed to be just as upset as Draco was feeling now.   
He thought of his father. His father could do this. It wasn’t a big deal. He’d get used to it. Potter had been better this morning than Pansy had been ever. It didn’t matter. The Dark Lord had told him to.   
...he found a million reasons why he should do this and only one why he shouldn’t – it felt bloody weird. 

Dropping the disillusionment spell, he shifted nervously, avoiding the other boy’s eyes.   
“I... don’t know...I just..” Although he was playing at his coquettish disorder, to his horror he felt himself actually blush and wanted to sink through the floor in embarrassment at Potter seeing him truly react.   
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll go.” He mumbled and rummaged around in his pocket for the tiny package. 

“Draco..” Potter’s voice stopped him. 

He couldn’t remember ever having heard him call him by his name before. His eyes flew to the green ones warily.   
“Yeah?” he asked, feeling that tight clench in his gut again.   
Potter was looking at him strangely. 

“You can stay if you want” he said after a few seconds. 

Draco took a deep breath and nodded, putting the blush from his mind and inwardly delighting in his first victory – he was one step closer to getting what he needed to attend the revel. Moving past Potter toward the second chair, he pressed the tiny package into his hands as he passed.   
“Here” he mumbled. 

 

 

Harry looked uneasily at the blond boy who seemed completely unbalanced in the wake of what had happened this morning. Before that, he’d been pretty much par for the course with Malfoy but since, he’d been babbling and just a minute ago he blushed. He didn’t seem to know what to do with himself. He’d looked grateful when Harry had told him he could stay. It was weird. 

Fingering the little package in his hand, he walked over to the chair opposite the unhinged junior aristocrat. 

He thought about what had happened. He’d been appalled when Malfoy had ordered him to do it.. or.. at least ordered him on to his knees with the implication that he was to do it. But... once he’d given in and had begun, he’d found that he didn’t actually mind it as much as he thought he probably should have.   
He’d actually tried hard to make the other boy feel good.   
From the sounds and the way he reacted Harry had thought he’d actually done pretty well maybe.   
And then, he didn’t even know why he’d done it except that it was dark and he was feeling good and Draco’s breath was feathering over his lips.. he’d tried to kiss him. 

At least Malfoy hadn’t hit him, Harry supposed.   
He’d reacted with disgust and Harry was disgusted at himself too. He didn’t know what had come over him.   
He’d just.. in that second been feeling affectionate and after..what had happened..   
But it was insane. He didn’t want to kiss Malfoy. He certainly didn’t want to have anything to do with the prat’s private parts and it would never..ever happen again.   
He’d find some other way to blackmail the blonde if he needed something else from him. 

Having unwrapped the little package he found two tiny phials inside and a shrunken note. Pulling his wand and enlarging it he recognised the handwriting. It looked like the diary from second year.   
He read:   
“Harry...if you are so eager to see what you are missing, you know that you are always welcome to visit..Draco can bring you to me whenever you are ready to come.   
Do not despair. Your friend Luna is quite well. She arrived here last night. I will speak with her after breakfast. A peculiar girl, as far as I was able to tell from the short conversation I had with her last night. L.V. 

The note incinerated itself the moment he read the L.V. 

Harry froze in shock. Luna was gone?!   
He hadn’t been to breakfast and transfiguration was a Slythendor class. Nobody had said anything to him!   
But it had to be true or Voldemort wouldn’t have written it.   
He had seen Luna only last night. She’d told him he wasn’t alone ...but..the way she’d hugged him and said good bye.. it was odd. He’d wondered for a second whether she knew something he didn’t and he was going to somehow end up leaving during the night.   
But if she was there.. maybe she had decided to leave, herself. He didn’t think Luna would ever choose to go to Voldemort, but then.. the memories of Hermione showed things he never thought could happen. 

Stirred back out of his thoughts he looked at the phials in his hand. Tiny little things. One was marked with an H and the other an S. He opened the H one first, needing to know.. needing some confirmation of what he didn’t dare suspect.   
Tipping it into the pensieve, he dipped a finger immediately and fell into the memory.

 

 

He dropped down into the room he recognised immediately from the last memory. 

Hermione was standing ready, a determined expression on her face and raised her wand at the bullish looking man who seemed uncomfortable, his gaze wandering back and forth between Voldemort (or at least the ground at Voldemort’s feet) and Hermione. 

“Plebus argustranyu” Hermione said clearly as her wand seemed to waver slightly.   
She’d only moved the tip he noticed. The wandwork was unclear. It was good that she was so good, he mused but it meant he wouldn’t be able to copy her and learn whatever Voldemort was teaching her. 

A low moan went up from the man and Harry whirled to look. His skin was splitting and rolling up into scrolls as if he were flaying himself really efficiently.   
It looked disgusting and from the expression on his face and the way he was gritting his teeth it was really painful too. 

“Oh! Sorry! Oh my gosh... I..” Hermione jumped in shock and looked upset. “I.. hang on.. I’ll I’ll undo it. I’m so sorry!!!”

She focused, swallowing and cast a retrograde countercurse, uynartsugra subelp.   
Harry watched as the man’s skin unrolled and hung down in flaps. It didn’t rejoin and heal however.   
This seemed to jolt Hermione again and she looked to Voldemort in mild panic. “It’s not reversing properly!!” 

The snake faced arse smirked at her and told her that it was reversed. The hex was at core a rolling hex rather than a cutting one. The cutting was incidental. Weren’t some healing spells suggested in the book also? 

Hermione nodded, looking down and trying to concentrate. 

Harry saw that the burly flayed man was starting to shake. Possibly shock, he thought. The man didn’t make a sound though.   
It must hurt to have most of your skin hanging down like wallpaper, he thought. That was a horrible spell. 

Hermione seemed to have thought of something she could use. She walked close to the man, looking incredibly apologetic and whispered. “I’m so sorry!! I didn’t think it wouldn’t undo completely. I’ll..I’ll fix it..”   
She started to run her wand over his skin, mumbling slightly and the strip of skin she was working on laid itself flat and started to heal back together. 

“No.” Came the sharp correction from Voldemort. “You’ll be there all day like that. Keep thinking. There is another spell you can use.” 

Hermione looked desperate, as if someone had told her that a bomb was set to explode in five minutes if she didn’t figure out the correct code to shut it off.   
“I.. there isn’t.. there wasn’t. Nothing that can heal on a large scale in one go..” She looked up at the man whose face was hanging down in thin peels. 

“Arb-“ The man started and Voldemort sent a hex at him that vanished his mouth.

“Gorlich – Dont tell her the answers. She must work these things out for herself!” he scolded annoyed.

Hermione didn’t look convinced.   
“Arbus’s transfer? That only works person to person, doesn’t it?!” The man started to nod and then looked at Voldemort and stopped, looking down. 

Hermione stood back, thinking, seemingly confused. She looked at Voldemort speculatively, who raised his eyebrows.

“Do not imagine that Gorlich would ever suggest you should transfer...that.. to my person, Hermione. Think laterally. You will come upon the answer.” 

Harry watched the familiar dawning of understanding expression pass over his friend’s face.   
“oh... Oh!!! That’s brilliant! It’s that easy?! Really?!” 

She turned and focussed on the cushion on the couch and biting her lip in concentration transfigured it into a human body. A non living human body, but a pretty realistic replica of the burly man she had cursed, who now looked intensely relieved, mouthless though he was.   
A short while later the flayed effect vanished on him and reappeared on the transfigured body. 

Hermione jumped and clapped her hands. “Arbus was a genius!!” she crowed. “Why don’t they just use that in St Mungo’s?! It’s so much quicker than healing a person bit by bit!” 

Voldemort scoffed. “It is dark magic, Hermione. Quite apart from the obvious illegal aspect - many conditions may be worsened by dark magic – many curses too. There is a rather long list of curses which react extremely badly to application of Arbus’s solution. I will have you learn it after we have worked through the book. For the moment – I will instruct you when you may not use that solution. Most of the curses you will be applying have fully repairing counter-curses.   
I would point out, in passing, that my cushion is now ruined forever. This is why it is so much more efficient to use prisoners. You can simply vanish them when that happens and retrieve a new one.   
Still.. needs must, I suppose.” He waved a hand at the flayed corpse next to him, vanishing it. 

Harry looked at the conflicted expression on his friend’s face. She was upset over ruining Voldemort’s bloody couch cushion. She’d actually considered for a second using prisoners just to save the bastard’s furniture. He saw the guilt there as she turned back to the healed mouthless death eater.   
“O-ok.. Um... you don’t want me to do that one three times I hope.” She was told to go on to the next.   
Nodding she set her shoulders again and raised her wand.

“Sintri sintri seppa” she said, for some reason making her voice unnaturally high. It sounded funny. 

The man the red and white curse hit didn’t seem to find it so funny though. White tendrils resembling lightning coruscated all over him. Harry was impressed as he fell to his knees shaking his limbs and rolling his shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut. 

“Ah.. well done. You noted the tonal variation possible. A satisfactory result indeed. In battle the man would have been incapacitated, as you see. Reverse it and cast it at medium and low level.” 

She did so. Harry tried to observe her wand movements carefully but they were too understated again. The medium and low levels of the curse didn’t make the death eater fall down, although at the medium one he shook violently. The low level just made him shiver. 

“You can of course, artificially raise the frequency of your voice prior to using the curse.. but I am content with your performance on that. Next.” 

Harry found himself wandering over to the armchair and sitting down, just watching in mild awe as Hermione worked through the next four curses.   
In the first, hundreds of large beetles seemed to be crawling under the man’s skin and poured out of his nose as his cheeks bulged and eyes watered. Hermione had reversed it quickly, squeamish as the bugs had flowed down onto the floor.   
The second curse had no visible effect but whatever it was doing it made the death eater scream, the noise coming muffled through his nose between frantic breaths as he crumpled on the floor.   
In the third all his limbs fell off and he plummeted to the ground as a torso. There was no blood – they were simply separate. Skin sealed over the cuts. It didn’t hurt at all apparently, apart from being dropped to the floor from a metre in the air and landing on scattered legs and arms.   
The fourth curse sent some kind of black ichor actually spurting from the end of the wand. It sprayed onto the death eater’s robe and the floor but then the goop seemed to actually collect itself and started to flow quickly and horribly up the front of the man whose wide imploring eyes flicked to Voldemort immediately.   
Voldemort was apparently content to let whatever was going to happen when it touched him happen. Hermione raised her wand to fire the countercurse but the snake raised his hand to hold her off for a second.

“You should see the effects if you are going to use any curse, my dear” 

Harry narrowed his eyes at the last part. His..dear.. A bit bloody familiar there.. 

The goop had reached the death eater’s neck. He dropped to his knees as if felled, as black bruising and tendrils spread out in the skin wherever the slime touched. It flowed quickly up and covered his nose.   
Harry could see the man’s throat bulge. It was actually moving down his airway. Black tears slid in tracks down his face, spreading bruised tendrilled flesh in their path.   
It was terrible. 

Hermione raised her wand again, obviously thinking the same thing.

“Wait!” Voldemort instructed. “It is not finished. I am sure you recall the description of this curse. Its purpose is not merely to discomfort onlookers.” 

Harry watched, disgusted as the bruising and tendrils spread to cover all of the man’s skin slowly and his eyes turned black. After long minutes he was still. 

“Command him up, Hermione. It is your curse.” 

Hermione licked her lips nervously.   
“Stand up” she said quietly. 

The figure, which now looked like a lacework of black over white stood up ponderously.

“Curse him. Explore your creation.” 

Frowning, Hermione shot a stunner, to absolutely no effect.   
Voldemort smiled. “Only the killing curse or the specific countercurse will stop it now. Of course.. aurors and most advanced wizards will recognise the rather distinctive appearance and would use one or the other depending upon their knowledge. But for others – he will function almost as a human golem.” 

Hermione tilted her head and then shot something else at the black and white figure. Nothing happened.

“No my dear. You cannot glamour it either. If it were so simple, do you not think that I would simply amass an army of afflicted muggles? The countercurse is unfortunately too simple. In my younger days I spent a short while attempting to modify the curse but I was not successful in doing so. It is rather delicate. Modifications to render it internal only do not adequately control the victim, attempts to make it less obtrusive only make it obtrusive in different ways and making it irremovable seems to make it simultaneously voracious and the host is killed.   
Blaess was either extremely lucky in his development or extraordinarily patient.   
It is an interesting curse, however the several minutes required to fully capture the victim make it a less effective curse in battle – where the countercurse can easily be applied before the substance has even begun to spread. It is quite frightening for those afflicted, however and it can be used much like the imperius in torture. It is not useful for interrogation as the victim can no longer speak and their eyes are shielded from legilimency. You may remove it and show me the next one now.” 

Harry had been watching the focused attention which Hermione had been paying Voldemort. She looked like she was just in DADA or Transfiguration class and material for the next test was being presented. She nodded here and there as if digesting the information.   
It was bizarre but she seemed to be really enjoying this, even if she looked a bit guilty or squeamish here and there. 

She shot off a pale pink counter-curse and the black ichor melted away into smoke which poured out of the death eater’s nose before he took a huge gasping breath through it.   
He seemed to be hyperventilating and Voldemort flicked a finger at him, reappearing his mouth. The man fell to hands and knees panting desperately. 

When he had calmed down and gotten back on his feet. Voldemort gestured to Hermione and she raised her wand again. 

“Praefoco gradi” she intoned in a low voice. 

The death eater’s eyes widened in blind fear as his hands went to his throat. He scrabbled at it, breathing with difficulty. 

“Tighter.” Voldemort said quietly. 

Hermione furrowed her brow and focused, turning her wand slowly like a volume control.   
The death eater sank to his knees slowly. 

“Excellent. Release it and apply it again” Voldemort said. She did. 

It was on the third time that Voldemort said “Tighten it until he passes out.”   
Hermione nodded, her mouth tight, and turned her wand slightly more. Harry could see from where he was sitting that her hand was shaking slightly. The death eater’s lips were turning blue from lack of oxygen. A visible tight band of sucked in flesh could be observed all around his neck.   
And then somehow that band, as he watched, sucked in suddenly and his neck split..his head falling to the side and ..and off.. it fell down and hit the ground with a horrible sound and there was blood pouring out of his neck and going everywhere and Harry could just gape in shock. 

He looked at Hermione and she was gaping too and white as a sheet, her arm still raised and shaking massively.   
Obviously she hadn’t meant to do that.   
He watched as she couldn’t seem to look away from the large pool of red liquid growing on the flagstones, and then he looked to Voldemort, who wore a strange expression – as if she were a child that had accidentally dropped an egg while helping in the kitchen and was in tears over it. There was again that.. doting..look. Then Voldemort seemed to sigh and got to his feet and, walking toward her, waved a hand vaguely, vanishing the death eater’s body. 

“Shhhh.. Shhh.. There. It’s alright” he said softly as he neared her, stepping between her and the empty space on the ground she was still staring at with a stricken, panicked expression. 

“I killed him!” she yelped in a tiny voice. “I didn’t mean to. I... you vanished him.. I ..I ..killed..”

Harry watched as Voldemort sighed and bent and picked Hermione up, carrying her back to the sofa and cradling her against him, rocking her slightly.   
She had burst into tears and buried her face in his shoulder, her arms around his neck as he held her. 

He looked ..patient more than anything else as he stroked her back slowly and let her sob and soak his robes with her tears. 

The memory faded mistily but Harry did not feel himself thrown out, instead the scene in the room simply shifted. 

The fire was lit now. Hermione was sitting quite contentedly having tea with some woman who looked terrified suddenly, looking over toward Harry.   
Turning he saw Voldemort walk past him. 

As the memory went on he realised that the woman was a muggle from the dungeons and that Hermione had been practicing a hex on her.. well.. the way Voldemort referred to it as the he supposed it might have been the same hex she’d used on the death eater.   
That was bloody not true!! Hermione wouldn’t just kill someone and then immediately go and practice the same hex on someone else and she’d never curse some muggle who’d just been abducted by death eaters!   
He hadn’t seen her curse the woman, so she could have been lying but then Voldemort had been in the woman’s head – he’d have probably checked whether she actually cursed her. 

Distracted by his thoughts he missed a bit of what Snakeface was rattling on about – only catching the last bit. 

“She may not be evil but she is not a particularly nice person either. She is going back to the dungeons.” 

Hermione didn’t even protest when the woman was vanished. 

Then Voldemort seemed to become serious and Harry listened to him tell her that some death eater had been arrested and he wanted to get him back in a hurry. He asked her if she was willing to help – clearly she could say no. 

He felt his heart sink when she seemed really pleased that he’d even asked her and said she’d help if she could. 

Harry rubbed a hand over his mouth in disarray.   
He’d..he’d thought she was like a prisoner here and found she was being treated well and taught magic by Voldemort himself.   
It didn’t mean she wasn’t there against her will ...but this though – choosing to help try to save a death eater when she didn’t have to.. It looked more like Hermione had actually joined Voldemort. 

As the bastard gestured for her to come to him, everything turned suddenly misty again and Harry felt himself tumbling out of the memory.


	20. Chapter 20

He was disorientated when he returned. He flinched, seeing Draco there, looking at him. He’d forgotten the ferret was even in the room. 

A sudden hitch of guilt pricked him at the thought.   
Draco might not be helping him out of the goodness of his black little heart maybe.. but he had gone to Voldemort for him and he was acting really weird since..

“What happened?!” the boy in question asked, sounding concerned. “you went white part way through. What did it show?!” 

Harry refocused his eyes from where he had been looking straight through the blonde.   
Draco hated Hermione. Telling him that she’d killed someone might be a bad idea if she ever escaped and came ba..   
The thought died. She wouldn’t escape would she. She was happy where she was. Yes but.. after I kill Voldemort..   
That thought wasn’t much better. He’d watched the hexes Hermione was learning. They were far stronger than anything Harry had learned. Voldemort would know all of those and probably hundreds.. maybe even thousands.. more. How the hell was he supposed to beat him?! It was a ridiculous idea. Dumbledore was crazy. 

“Potter!” Draco’s voice roused him again. “What’s wrong?!” 

He looked up at him indecisively. He..needed to talk to someone and he couldn’t talk to anyone.   
Draco would be the worst person he could possibly pick to confide in. He wanted him to actually go to Voldemort for him. He’d seen in the last memory how easily the snake wandered in and out of people’s thoughts. Anything he told Draco he might as well be telling the Dark Lord.   
He paused.. but.. maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing, he considered. He wanted to be able to take the necklace off so he could talk with the bastard, didn’t he? He could just talk to Draco and hope that Voldemort got the message.

“The memory was about Hermione” he said quietly. 

Draco’s expression showed dark interest. “What are they doing to her then?” he asked with a faint note of schadenfreude. 

Harry shook his head. “She’s..fine.. She’s..like Voldemort’s student or something. He’s teaching her dark magic. It was just-”   
He looked up at the stunned, utterly appalled look on the blonde’s face, and continued determinedly.   
“-She killed someone. Accidentally. Yesterday. She..kind of decapitated them.” 

Draco’s jaw dropped. “Granger killed someone?!” 

Harry nodded unhappily. “She was really upset about it..and ..and Voldemort was comforting her and holding her and so on. Rocking her, you know?..it was just...” He stopped. Draco’s expression had changed like lightning from shock to anger and disbelief.

“Oh. Ok. Fine. Have your little laugh Potter. Last time I ask what’s bothering you.” 

He frowned. “I’m not kidding! He was! Why do you think I was so desperate for more memories?! He’s being..really nice..to her. Yesterday I watched her study while he worked on something and then they had lunch and he was telling her all this stuff.. and the way he touched her hair was just creepy.   
In the first package you brought me he showed me all these memories she had of Dumbledore abducting and torturing and almost killing her and then there was one of his memories where he rescued her and carried her and he was holding and rocking her and stuff there too.   
He’s being really, really nice to her and it’s just driving me fucking crazy!!” 

Draco looked fundamentally shaken. “Dumbo took her?! Are you sure the memories were real?! I can’t believe Dumbo would torture Granger. What for?! And... and the rest of it’s just bloody impossible. He must be messing with you. Granger is probably in a cell or dead already. The Dark Lord wouldn’t even deign to talk with a mudblood like her. He..he wouldn’t ..” 

Harry rolled his eyes and reached into the collar of his robes, pulling forth the necklace. “I think Dumbledore did it for this.. He wanted her to take it off and she wouldn’t..and then he came and gave to me it a couple of days ago. It stops vol..sorry..stops him from getting into my mind while I sleep.. or anytime really.   
I don’t know where Hermione got it.. she only started wearing it just before all this happened.   
And now I can’t take it off... he did something to the chain and there’s no way to remove it.” 

Draco got up pensively and came toward him. Harry ignored the way his heart seemed to beat a bit faster when the blonde stood over him.   
Stupid. It was nothing. 

When Draco took out his wand and pointed it at him, he made to knock it out of the way but Draco had already said “Legilimens”.. 

Harry felt..nothing. Nothing happened. 

After a while Draco put his wand down and said – well.. I can get into your mind simple enough. 

Harry frowned at him, confused. “I didn’t feel you. What did you see?” 

Draco started to answer but stopped, looking confused.   
“I..don’t know..” he said slowly. He tried the spell again and once again put his wand down looking confident.

“Tell me what I had for breakfast this morning” Harry pre-empted him before he could respond that it worked fine.   
Draco cast the spell for the third time and dropped it looking confident and then seemingly remembering and growling in irritation.   
“You’re right. It somehow stops legilimency. I feel like I was just in your mind and there was nothing to be worried about there. Are you sure you can’t take it off?!” He leaned down, picking up the necklace and then yelped and dropped it again. “Damn! It hurts!” he exclaimed, looking concerned. 

Harry picked up his hand and looked at the fingertips where thin red lines were already raising themselves in blisters. “Sorry.” He said softly. “I didn’t know.” 

Draco looked at his fingers too. He raised his wand and whispered a healing charm over them, to no effect.   
Harry felt a bit worse and looked up at the familiar arrogant face above him sympathetically. 

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll... I’ll ask my father about it tonight. He’ll know how to counter the charm.” The other boy said distractedly, looking at him strangely. He hadn’t reclaimed his hand yet from Harry’s grip.   
Swallowing, Harry let it go and looked away from the silvery eyes. He licked his lips nervously and tried to ignore Draco’s nearness.   
“You want to see the memory then..if you don’t believe me?” he said, slightly huskily.   
Draco nodded and, to Harry’s panic he climbed onto the chair Harry was sitting in, straddling him. A moment later he’d dipped a finger into the bowl and his silver eyes misted over as his mind went into the memory. 

Harry sat, frozen, aghast, pinned into the comfortable chair by Draco’s body.   
He found himself breathing faster and tried to believe it was just panic and anger, knowing he was deluding himself. It was the feel of the warm body pressed to his.   
Draco wasn’t able to see him right now so he was safe letting his eyes roam over the sharp point of his jaw that was so different to his own squarer angular one.. The superior twist of Draco’s lips seemed to be almost ingrained now.. he had a wide sensual mouth with pale pink lips. 

He’d never really had the chance to look at him in this much detail before, he realised. 

The blonde’s eyelashes were long but hardly noticeable because they were so pale, except when he was really close.

Draco’s nostrils flared suddenly and he paled. Harry wondered whether he was watching the part where the death eater died.   
His eyes roamed down Draco’s neck. His skin was so smooth and fine.   
Curiously he lifted a tentative hand and stroked a finger over his neck. It was like warm silk..   
The other boy’s body was similar in build to his own, he noted. Well.. he was a seeker too. Probably they did a lot of the same training exercises.   
He couldn’t prevent his attention wandering lower to the place where they were pressed against each other.   
He didn’t want to react. Thinking about that just made him think about this morning. The way Draco had gripped his hair tightly and..   
Fuck. He had to think of something else. Grandmothers. Kittens. Dumbledore. Snape. NO!..   
He groaned as he remembered, not the cruel bastard who tormented him in the classroom for years – who he’d been using as an anti erection cure for years, but the black eyes and cruelly seductive smirk as the man bathed Harry’s cock with his tongue.   
Oh god..   
He felt himself harden automatically and looked up in fear. 

The silvery eyes looking down at him were not misted over anymore. 

Draco looked amused and superior with a tinge of disgust. 

Mortified, Harry froze, awaiting the barb that was sure to come.   
It didn’t.   
The moment dragged on and then Draco leaned down.   
“This is just an experiment, understand, Potter..” he murmured as he tilted his head and pressed his lips against Harry’s own. 

Adrenalin flooded his veins in horror. Draco was kissing him! Draco was kissing him! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!! What was he supposed to do?!   
He knew what he was supposed to do. He was supposed to push the git off onto the floor like Draco had done to him this morning and then he was supposed to storm off.   
Lips worked against his own gently and he heard himself whine even as his eyes slipped closed. His arms found their own way around the boy straddling him and he returned the kiss. He felt hands delve through his hair, gripping and tugging his head back further and he moaned, parting his lips slightly.   
When he felt Draco’s tongue tentatively slip into his mouth he couldn’t help responding to it with his own, breathing fast and deep through his nose, excitement coursing through him. Draco’s tongue flinched back at first but after a second or so, returned and then dominated his own. 

Not long after that the blonde broke the kiss and looked down at him in excited confusion, breathing roughly though parted lips. Harry could feel the other boy’s hard cock pressed against his own.   
Draco furrowed his brow slightly as if bothered by something and then leaned down and kissed him again, hard. Harry kissed him back eagerly, his hands tightening on the boy’s lower back and trying to pull him closer. Draco growled low, nipping at his tongue when it tried to enter his mouth and then sucking on it, before breaking away again, looking suddenly distressed.   
“I’m...i’m not gay..” he said, making obvious what he was bothered by. “I ..like girls. I’d rather be kissing a girl. I only want to fuck girls. I.. this...”   
He rubbed over his face with a hand. 

Harry tilted his head thoughtfully. “I’m not gay either.” He said slowly. 

Draco shot him a dubious expression. “Of course you’re gay, Potter. Look at the way you sucked my cock this morning. How many guys have you shagged?! I bet you’ve never even had a girlfriend. I’m not like you.”. 

Harry felt unaccountably hurt even though he knew he should have expected something horrible from the blonde.   
“Actually, you git – I’ve never shagged a guy. I’ve only done what you made me do this morning once before, for your information. I have slept with three girls but you’re right – I’ve never had a girlfriend.   
I ...want Hermione..   
I..I love her. I..was going to ask her before this happened.   
I’m not gay. I ..might be bisexual maybe. I’m not sure. It..It feels kind of good when-...” He blushed and looked away. 

Draco seemed to think about that.   
Harry risked a look at him. He was biting his lip and looking indecisive. The silver eyes flicked to his and Draco released his lip, obviously realising that this was not in the handbook of superior aristocratic expressions.   
He fixed Harry with a deadly serious look. “You won’t tell anyone that we..that you..about what happened, Potter – or I’ll never bring you anything from the Dark Lord again.. and...and I’ll make sure the whole school believes that you were Snape’s bitch and..I’ll make sure something happens to that Weasel bint who’s always hanging off you. Swear it!” 

He looked so furious and Harry couldn’t help the small smirk, although he tried to prevent it. 

Draco snarled at him, baring his teeth. “You think I won’t?!” 

Harry shook his head.   
“If Vol..if you know who wants you to bring me something, you’ll bring it. You already spread around school that I was Snape’s bitch.. and since I kind of was, I don’t see how you can make that any worse without actual photos or something.. as for Ginny.. I’d prefer nothing happened to her but I..don’t think I like her very much these days. Some of the things she’s said since Mione’s been gone.. the way she looks at me..   
So really.. you have nothing to hold over my head. But I’ll swear anyway. I won’t tell anyone about anything we’ve done together” 

Draco had gotten wide eyed when he mentioned Snape. “You.. you really were.. with my godfather?!” he breathed disbelieving. “that’s..disgusting, Potter!” 

Harry sighed and bit the inside of his cheek. Why had he told Draco that. Stupid! 

“It..before I had this necklace..you know who.. was always in my head.. buzzing..like static.. and giving me nightmares at night..”   
He swallowed, glancing at the blonde and averting his eyes again quickly.   
“Horrible nightmares...   
He..   
...It doesn’t matter what they were about..  
Something had happened – something that Dumbledore thought was dangerous and he sent me to stay with Snape so that he could stop it from happening again.   
When Snape touched my skin, he kind of shielded me automatically and it was..quiet. Peaceful.. It felt..”   
He hesitated, pulling a face. He didn’t want to tell Draco this. He plunged on anyway.   
“it felt safe.. good..   
You don’t know what that was like. I’d..I’d never felt that before.” Harry closed his eyes; embarrassed.   
“And..um.. when I slept, I somehow kept crawling closer to him and stuff to..to be closer to that feeling.   
Snape tried to stop it and I didn’t even know I was doing it but I woke up lying on him and I’d.. I’d sort of undressed him in my sleep so that I could touch more of his skin.”   
He felt the blood rush to his head in shame and clenched his eyes tighter.   
“And..he..he was..um.. well.. he was..kind of..hard.. and he asked me what I wanted to do about the situation we were in now and..and.. and I.. I don’t know. Maybe I was.. was.. lonely. I don’t know anymore. It felt nice..   
I was a bit bothered because, you know - I’m not gay or anything but then..then he was just bloody amazing and I didn’t want to stop anymore and then Ron came and I found out about Hermione being abducted.” 

“Its...not like I was under his desk all year or anything.. it just..kind of happened..once.. and then he was gone.   
And now even Luna’s gone.   
Now I’ve gone and kissed you and told you all this stuff the bastard will probably keep you too.” He hit his head against the back of the easy chair, keeping his eyes closed, afraid of the nasty remark he knew would be coming now. 

“I doubt it” Draco said softly. 

Harry looked at him with a ‘yeah as if you’d know’ expression. Draco seemed unsure of himself and then he shifted slightly on him and Harry’s breath caught with the sensation. 

“I think I liked what you did this morning..” he ventured. “...I’m not sure.. Do it again!”   
The slight superior smirk edged back onto his lips.

Harry snorted in amusement. “Is that your polite way of asking me to suck your cock again for nothing?” 

The blonde nodded slowly, his silvery eyes fixed on Harry’s own.   
Harry felt a little smug suddenly.   
“Why should I? What’s in it for me?” 

The silvery eyes narrowed and glinted spitefully. “You get to touch me, Potter. That’s what’s in it for you. I don’t need to read your mind to know what you had for breakfast!”   
Harry flinched and glared. “Fuck you, Malfoy!”   
The other boy sneered back. “No.. I only offered to let you suck me, Potter. Pay more attention.” 

Harry felt wrong footed as Draco shifted on him again, rubbing against him tantalizingly. The other boy reached a hand forward and burrowed it in Harry’s hair again, gently this time, his fingers teasing.   
It felt good. Harry forced himself not to tilt his head toward the hand and maintained his glare but Draco seemed to see that he was fighting himself and leaned closer, as if to kiss him again, the hand in Harry’s hair tightening and pulling him gently back. 

Harry knew he should resist. He’d end up just giving Draco whatever he wanted if he didn’t stop soon, but..he kind of wanted to give in... He had enjoyed what had happened this morning even if it was weird and wrong to do it with Malfoy (obviously) and he liked being able to talk to someone.   
He never thought that that someone would be Malfoy, but it turned out that he’d rather tell him than Ron or god-forbid Ginny.. and definitely rather than the Headmaster. 

Draco, leaning close, extended and flicked a pointed tongue over Harry’s top lip. It tickled and he licked over it himself to relieve the sensation. A half second later Draco was kissing him roughly, his tongue forcing itself into Harry’s mouth and slipping against his own. He couldn’t help the soft urgent moan as he hardened in seconds.   
Draco broke the kiss and looked down at him triumphantly. “You want to, Potter.. and I’ll let you.. now stop making out this is some big sacrifice for you. You can only bargain when you’re willing to lose the thing you’re bargaining for.”   
He leaned low and brushed his cheek against Harry’s There was very faint stubble on the blonde’s chin as his breath ghosted deliciously over Harry’s ear and he whispered “You don’t want me to leave..do you?”   
Harry moaned and ground his cock against the other boy as his earlobe was sucked gently into a hot wet mouth.   
“ohh.. fuck.. ok. Damn..Draco..alright.. I’ll do it.”   
He gripped the other boy again, his hands sliding down his lower back to the top of his arse and pulling him closer. This seemed to jolt the blonde and he pulled away, reaching behind him for Harry’s hands. 

“That feels weird. Don’t do that” he asserted. 

Harry nodded blindly. Draco wanted more but he was nervous. Go slow. Yes. He wanted to see what Draco looked like under his uniform, he realised.   
A shift in the room made him look up. There was a bed now, on the other side of the room where the other chair had been. 

He looked at it and swallowed. Was he going to take Draco to bed?! Yes.. he’d kind of already taken him to bed sort of...but it wasn’t a bed. Beds made everything so.. so..real he’d feel weird in a bed with Draco.   
The bed obligingly shifted and became a large mattress on the floor.   
Harry decided he could possibly live with that and nodded. In one movement he gripped Draco under the arse and stood up. 

He was heavy. And panicking at present at suddenly finding himself in the air with hands on his arse. He couldn’t carry him like this for long.   
But then he didn’t need to. He was at the mattress in three steps and dropping them both down, suddenly placing himself over Draco, kneeling between the other boys legs. 

Clearly the position was disturbing to the boy since he sat up quickly and scooted back.

“What are you doing?!!” he demanded, incensed.

“I’m going to suck your cock. You wanted that, didn’t you?” 

The current object of his affections didn’t look at all relieved. “You can do that from the chair” he said low. 

Harry nodded vaguely, sitting back on his heels. “Yeah.. I can.. and you can stand.. but last time you collapsed afterward. I’m not going to jump on you or anything.. Besides.. I can make it feel even better this way.” 

Draco swallowed visibly and inched forward a bit, tensing when Harry drew his wand and drawing his own.   
“w-what are you going to do?” 

“I’m going to divesto your clothes. I’ll take mine off or leave them on, whichever you feel more comfortable with.” 

The blonde frowned. “You don’t need to undress me for this, Potter.” 

Harry paused and then agreed reluctantly. ..”You’re right.. I..wanted to... I was curious what you looked like.. If you really don’t want to I won’t.”   
He saw Draco look him over speculatively.   
“I probably look pretty much like any guy. What’s the big difference?!” 

Harry tilted his head and looked at the boy curiously. Had he really never noticed any difference in his own and other guy’s bodies?! He hung out with Crabbe and Goyle for pete’s sake.   
“I guess it doesn’t matter.” He responded lamely. “if you’re sensitive about your body or something. I was just curious. We’re both seekers.. I.. was just wondering.. forget it.” 

The other boy looked at him in a different way, as if he was speculating about his body now.   
“I’m not sensitive about my body, Potter. I just don’t generally undress in front of other boys. It’s not done. But.. you could undress..maybe.”   
Harry swallowed and then divestoed his shoes and socks, putting his wand down next to them.   
“..ok..” he said nervously.   
He hoped that if he did he might be able to persuade Draco..he really did want to see what his semi-enemy looked like. 

Unfastening his robe quickly he took it off and folded it next to his shoes. He started on his shirt, more slowly.

“Why don’t you just use a divesto” Draco asked with a strange expression. Harry snorted back. “I’d hate to frighten you with so much skin at once – you’re already terrified.” 

Draco snarled back in indignation “I’m not afraid! I’m...observing decorum – something you wouldn’t know about, Potter!” Harry laughed. Decorum..pff   
“So what is protocol for fooling around with another guy then?” he asked, looking down as he reached the last button and slid his shirt back and off, reaching for it and folding it loosely, tossing it to his robe. 

Draco didn’t reply. 

He looked back and the other boy was watching him with wide eyes and tight lips.   
He reached for his belt. The silver eyes flicked to it like a mouse mesmerised by a snake. He undid it, pulled it off and then stopped. Draco seemed to visibly relax.   
“I’m not scared.. alright” he said, as if to make it clear. “This is just..not something I expected.. and it’s moving fast into really fucked up territory.”   
Harry looked back at him, having to agree.   
“Yeah.. well.. these are fucked up times.” He tossed the belt to the other clothes and crawled forward. 

“Stop!” Draco demanded, looking panicked.

Harry did, resting back on his heels again with a questioning look.   
“I’m not going to undress you.. calm down. I can’t exactly reach you from over here. Or have you changed your mind again? You were the one that wanted this, Malfoy!” 

The other boy nodded but still looked petrified. Harry didn’t quite understand it.. he was the one who initiated all of this. This morning – he’d bloody demanded it.. And just before – he’d been the one who kissed him. He was being confusing with this back and forth.   
“Tell you what. I won’t come near you. Alright? I’ll stay here and you can do what you want.”   
He tossed himself down on the mattress on his back, put his hands under his head and closed his eyes. 

There was no movement for a while and then he felt faint shifting. He cracked an eye to see that Draco was taking off his robe. Closing his eye again he forced himself not to move. He really did want to see him..and to..to suck him again..and so whatever happened he was going to let Draco set the pace and hope he didn’t panic and run off. 

There was some more rustling and then he felt the mattress shift some more. He couldn’t work out exactly what was going on till he felt it dip next to him.   
Draco was right there, kneeling beside him. He swallowed and kept his eyes closed. 

Something tickled his bottom lip. 

When it came back he flicked his tongue out and licked what he found was Draco’s finger. It lingered and he sucked it in, making his mouth soft and suckling it in and out.   
He heard the hitch in the breathing of the boy next to him and flickered his tongue over the pad of the finger. 

“You’ve only done it..once..before?” Draco asked slightly huskily. 

Harry nodded, releasing the finger. “Turns out there are some things he can teach.” 

He opened his eyes and looked over at the boy, blinking in pleased surprise.   
Draco was naked.   
He couldn’t prevent himself from staring. His eyes running all over the form unexpectedly exposed to him. 

He was lean, his muscles long, especially on biceps and shoulders, while his chest was more slender. Small nipples.. entirely hairless.. His eye drifted down.   
Draco had really well defined abdominal muscles. Harry wondered if he spent most of his time training his shoulders and abs. Those were the most important groups for flying though.. maybe he didn’t.   
Lower still and Draco’s straight slender cock hung slightly, only half hard, from a small nest of blond curls. Then long lean thighs and he had been looking at him far too long hadn’t he. 

He swallowed and looked back up at the silvery eyes that were narrowed defensively. Licking his lips nervously he said.. or tried to say – his voice cracked on the first try. “You.. uh..look really good... sorry..I..I didn’t mean to..um.. stare or anything.. I won’t do it again, alright?”

Draco looked away and folded his arms then snarled, apparently at the wall - “Undress. You’ve seen me and it’s only fair that I see you.” 

Harry blinked up at him. His hands went of their own accord to his trousers, unbuttoning and then unzipping them as he lifted his pelvis and slid them down along with his underwear. He lifted his legs and pulled them off, tossing them uncaring to the other clothes.   
His penis which had been calming was hardening once again at the situation. Even though he knew Draco probably wouldn’t touch him...it seemed his body could hope. 

The blonde seemed to actually steel himself before looking down, as if seeking Harry naked was going to burn out his retinas or something. His eyes flicked hesitantly over the half of Harry’s body newly exposed, lingering on his groin for a while, that fearful panicked look flooding his eyes. 

Harry remained perfectly still, his hands still beneath his head trying to look as unthreatening as he possibly could. 

Draco looked back up at him after a while and said only. “You need to do more squats. Your legs could use work.”   
Harry let the criticism wash over him uncaring. It was only to be expected. 

They stared at each other uncomfortably for a minute before Harry mumbled. “I’m not going to move unless you tell me to – so if you’re expecting me to do something..we’re both going to be here a while.”   
The other boy blinked and then seemed to calm considerably.   
“Yeah.. ok.. alright then.. touch me” 

Harry unhooked one of his hands and stroked it down Draco’s broad chest. 

“No! I meant my cock, Potter.” The boy corrected defensively. 

Harry was disappointed but nodded. He trailed a fingertip up the semi hard shaft lightly. Draco’s cock twitched in reaction so he did it some more, stroking him with the barest feather light touch.   
“You know.. I could make you feel a lot better if you’d let me” he said softly.   
Draco was almost completely hard now and he gripped the other boy’s shaft lightly, stroking his hand up and down”   
He glanced up at Draco who had his eyes closed and his head tilted back slightly.   
“if you lie down.. I promise I’ll make it better than this morning” He squeezed lightly, stroking a bit more firmly now and feeling the boy rock slightly in response. A tiny bead of precum was building on his head. 

“No funny stuff?” Draco mumbled sounding preoccupied. 

“Well.. I’m not going to try to stick my dick in you if that’s what you mean.. no.” Harry answered, not sure what the boy wanted to hear. 

“...alright..” Draco said softly “but you stop anything if I tell you to..right?” 

Harry assured him that he would and Draco, keeping his eyes closed, leaned back, dragging himself up the mattress and lying down with one knee raised.   
He thought Draco was quite... pretty.. if such a word could be used with guys. He didn’t know how these things worked. It felt weird to say handsome. He was..kind of softer than Snape had been.. he had no hair except for the blonde curls at the bottom of his penis and some light dusting on his calves.   
He was definitely more masculine than any of the girl’s he’d been with but.. He was still..pretty. 

Climbing carefully onto his hands and knees he crawled up toward him, straddling the leg that was on the mattress. 

Draco wore an expression like someone about to undergo a painful medical procedure with no anaesthetic.   
Harry wanted to kiss him but he didn’t think that that would be welcomed right now. So instead he turned to the one place Draco seemed halfway comfortable with him touching.   
Leaning down he nuzzled at the slightly flagging cock with his face, rubbing himself into the other boy’s groin.   
He heard Draco gasp.   
He leaned lower and started to slowly lick Draco’s rather petite balls, feeling the skin tighten under his tongue as he moved over them, sucking first one, then the other ball into his mouth gently.   
“Fuck.. Potter..” he heard Draco breathe, and saw the boy’s head tossed to one side. He bucked gently as if to say ‘get on with it’..   
Harry smirked. Draco’s alternately demanding and terrified behaviour was kind of funny. He was sure that if this went on past today – Draco would end up just demanding.. and he wasn’t sure whether he minded. When he’d kissed him earlier..and Draco had been so arrogant.. he’d kind of liked it. 

He paid attention to the seam of the boy’s thighs and then licked up to his pelvic bone.   
When he sucked on it, Draco made a sound halfway between a moan and a yelp and jerked upward off the mattress.   
“fuck.. fuck.. oh.. do that harder..” Draco groaned. Harry did and then experimentally nipped him there while he was sucking. The blonde cried out in pleasure, his hands going to Harry’s head. “Ok stop now. It’s too much..” he whined.   
Harry left and instead repeated what he had done on the other side until Draco pushed his head away again. 

Still ignoring the cock now stridently hard and bobbing in his face, he carefully moved up till he could lick a swipe from his pubic hair up the gorgeously defined muscles on Draco’s abdomen. 

“Potter..”Draco growled in warning. 

“I’ll stop when you say” he informed him and licked again, a little bit higher up, nipping him slightly.   
Draco opened his mouth and then paused seemingly indecisively. Harry took it as the opportunity to convince him, and dedicated himself to licking and nipping his way up the boy’s abdomen to his chest where, finally – triumphant at not being halted – he was able to run his tongue in a circle around the boy’s nipple.   
Draco whimpered slightly.   
Harry’s cock lay on Draco’s hip and his own thigh was pressed very lightly against the boy’s groin. When he flickered his tongue over the tiny nipple, Draco bucked against his thigh.   
He paused and when no ‘stop’ came, he gently sucked the miniature bud into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Draco groaned and his arms came up hesitantly, wrapping themselves around Harry.   
It felt good, Harry decided.   
He licked a trail over to the other nipple and gave it equal attention, feeling Draco grip him. The blonde was panting. He decided to risk being kicked off him and moved up even higher, stretching his body along the other boy’s and applying his mouth to his neck, licking and sucking at the places he was sensitive himself. Draco yelped in shock initially and then groaned loudly, his whole body moving, clenching. He was very sensitive there.   
Harry nibbled and sucked below his ear, feeling Draco clutching him tightly, arching and baring his neck for more attention.

“Don’t stop..” he demanded breathlessly. 

When Harry started to nibble at his ear, Draco made a bizarre sound like a small squeal in the back of his throat and tilted his head back in bliss. Harry carefully kissed and licked his way down and over the boy’s collarbone till he could excite the other side of his neck in the same way. When he’d finished Draco was making small whimpery noises of need and rubbing himself against Harry’s body above him. Their cocks side by side now. 

He might be able to kiss him now, he thought and hesitantly leaned up and licked the other boy’s lip gently. 

The reaction was catalytic. Draco grabbed him by the hair and the back of the neck and pulled him down violently, his mouth punishing and hungry. Harry found himself abruptly rolled and then Draco was kissing him hard, over and over.   
Dazed, he wrapped his arms around him and one of his legs came up automatically, wrapping around the hard smooth body currently pressing him into the mattress. Draco wound his pelvis, grinding against him and Harry found himself overwhelmed.. intoxicated by how abruptly passionate the boy had become.   
He felt Draco’s hand stroking down his chest. Scraping together the last vestiges of his mind he managed to lift one of his hands and bring it to the blonde’s neck, lightly teasing with his fingertips at the places that had made Draco mewl in delight before.   
As if the strings had been cut, Draco moaned into Harry’s mouth and went limp. 

Breaking the kiss, Harry applied his mouth again to the places his fingers had been teasing and was gratified to have Draco mewling and panting in lust. He carefully rolled them both over again till he was on top and continued playing at the different places on Draco’s neck, enjoying the different sounds he made until the other boy turned his mouth to Harry’s ear and whimpered desperately. “Potter... I..I need.. I want.. hurry up and suck me...I..can’t take it anymore..”   
Harry wanted to kiss him again for the beautiful desperation in that voice, but if he did that then he might lose control like last time, he reasoned. Instead he nuzzled at the soft skin and kissed Draco on his earlobe then quickly crawled down the boy’s body till he could kneel between his knees. 

He used everything he’d learned... everything that Snape had done to him.. to excite the blonde boy to the edge of climax and then hold him off tipping. He wasn’t sure, if he let Draco come, whether he’d be allowed to continue. After all – he’d have stopped Snape if the man would have listened to him. It was torture to be sucked and teased when you’d just come. 

He had his nose in Draco’s balls and was licking what Snape had referred to as the perenium, when he heard a strange sound. He looked about slightly but there was nothing there.   
Ignoring it he returned to sucking Draco as deeply as he could, which he found was much deeper than he’d managed this morning.   
Draco growled and groaned in pleasure, gripping Harry’s hair again now he was in reach and trying to drag him up and down how he wanted. Harry had allowed it each time till he got close to coming and then broken away to cool Draco down again, but this time he thought he’d let him come. He didn’t know how long he’d been teasing the other boy but the loud cry of frustration last time and the way Draco had made as if to jerk himself off before Harry had gently taken his hands away, suggested that Draco wouldn’t put up with much more. 

He forced himself as deep as he could go, enjoying the way the boy below him suddenly gripped and held his head in place and thrust up into his mouth, fucking him roughly. It didn’t take long for Draco to reach the point of no return and then Harry used his hands on both balls and perenium and Draco screamed his release like a creature possessed. 

Harry found his throat hurt a little, when Draco had stilled. He had swallowed the bittersweet emission automatically and decided that Draco really did taste a lot better than Snape. Now the other boy was lying absolutely limp, panting, with one arm thrown over his eyes.   
When he could get his breath back he sniffed as if something was amusing. Harry, lying with his face resting on the other boy’s thigh waited for the explanation.   
“That was fucking amazing.” Draco informed him. “I think you may be the best I’ve ever had, Potter. There’s something so wrong about that.”

Harry smirked smugly, knowing that Draco couldn’t see him. “So you’ve decided whether you like it, then?” he asked sarcastically. 

Draco let his arm slip off his face onto the mattress weakly and raised his head to make another snide remark but instead shot up and yelped in shock. Harry found himself tossed off the comfortable pillow he had been resting on as Draco pulled his legs in against his chest.

“Ow! Damn it, Draco!” he complained.

“Dumbledore” Draco said in a low terrified voice.

Harry spun and jerked back in horror at the Headmaster seated on the black armchair only a few metres away. He pulled his legs up against his chest much as Draco had, positioning himself defensively in front of the other boy. 

“I did not like to interrupt at that particular moment” the Headmaster said with a tight expression “However I must inform you both that half the school has been searching for you for the last hour. When you did not arrive at your last two classes or at lunch, Harry and it was noted that Mr Malfoy had also been absent all day, certain alarms were raised. Classes were cancelled and students sent to their dorms!   
I was about to summon aurors, when it occurred to me that there was one place which had not been searched.   
I apologise if you think it unfair, Mr Malfoy, that your absence should be associated with such mass panic, but your father’s affiliations are common knowledge, I’m afraid.”   
Dumbledor0e frowned at Draco as if he wanted to say more but seemed to bite off his words and turned back to fix Harry with a diamond hard stare.   
“Harry – this behaviour is inexcusable. I understand that you desire a normal life, however you cannot simply decide to vanish at a moment’s notice for an all day tryst during class hours. Tomorrow is Saturday – there is no excuse for this kind of impulsive thoughtlessness.” 

Harry pasted a contrite expression on his face but found he couldn’t quite manage to give a crap. How dare Dumbledore just come in and sit there while they were doing that. Pervy old bastard. He wanted to get up and rage against him, tell him exactly what he thought, but he was currently wandless and Dumbledore had to be one of the two most powerful wizards in the world.   
Whether he was the first or second most powerful was a matter he didn’t want to speculate on.

“I will need to see you in my office within ten minutes Harry. Mr Malfoy – you will please go to your dorm room. You will receive two weeks of detention for missing three of your own classes and disadvantaging every other student in the school by causing lessons to be cancelled. You will serve your detention with me personally.” 

Harry flinched and looked at the Headmaster in shock. He couldn’t do that.. nobody served detention with the Headmaster.   
He.. he was going to do something awful to Draco. Harry could just tell. He wouldn’t let him!   
“Professor Dumbledore.. it’s not Draco’s fault – it was me. I talked him into coming here. I.. I met him this morning before classes and asked him to meet me here. We got confused about the time. I said after transfiguration and he thought I meant-“

“Enough, Harry. I will speak with you in my office. Ten minutes!! Good night, Mr. Malfoy”   
Dumbledore stood and moved to the door, letting himself out and leaving a horrible silence. 

They both sat frozen for a minute, then suddenly Draco leapt up and scrambled for his clothes like a man possessed.

Harry wanted to scream “stop!” but the other boy wasn’t looking at him. He looked terrified and ashamed and Dumbledore had ruined everything.   
“Draco...” he said brokenly. 

“No. Shut it, Potter. This was a mistake. Now I’m supposed to have to have detention with Dumbo – who you say was torturing Granger.. tried to kill her?   
He liked the mudblood. She was on your side – I’m a bloody death eater. He’s going to kill me or send me to Azkaban or something. I’m fucking dead. I’ll have to leave school. This is all your..”   
he stopped and seemed to crumple. Then he turned, sudden hope dawning in the silvery eyes. “Come with me.. Seriously. You don’t think you’ll still be here for NEWTs do you? We could run to the manor. Dumbo probably can’t get in – there’s blood wards there, but I could bring you through.   
We could find some way to convince the Dark Lord you’re not going to kill him or anything. I mean – look how he was treating Granger.   
If you don’t.. I don’t know what will happen. I might not be able to come back! Or if he makes me come back... I might not remember...anything” Draco swallowed. 

Harry imagined this.. Draco returning, mind wiped..back to being the same old ferret. What if Dumbledore still hurt him. He might try to use him like he wanted to use Hermione. Some kind of emotional weapon.   
Then he thought about what it might be like if Draco didn’t return. No Hermione.. no Snape.. no Draco.. no Luna.. Just Ron.. Ginny continually hanging on his arm.   
Slowly, he reached for his own clothing, seriously considering running with Draco. He’d wanted to run yesterday but had nowhere to go. Maybe Draco could hide him. He had a manor. It had to be huge after all. Probably he could hide him somewhere till he could find out what Voldemort might do.   
And if not.. well.. that was a solution to everything too, he mused glumly. 

Draco was almost dressed and he hurried to catch up. The other boy stood fidgeting. “I’ve got to go, Potter..” he said urgently.   
Harry looked over at him, countering the divesto he’d used on his shoes and socks.   
“I’ll come” he said deciding. 

Draco froze. “What?! Really?! Why?!!” 

Harry snorted. Idiot.   
“You just asked me. I don’t want to be here. If you can hide me at Malfoy manor for a little while.. maybe a day – I’ll come up with a better plan for where I’ll go next, ok?” 

Draco nodded blankly, seeming stunned. 

Harry went to the pensieve and hurriedly siphoned up the memory, dropping it into the little phial and picking up the other one, shoving both in his pockets.   
“let’s go.”   
Draco nodded again, running to the door. 

Harry half expected one of the teachers or Dumbledore himself to be waiting outside in the corridor but it was, astoundingly, empty. They pelted down the halls, nearly falling down the stairs before Harry pulled Draco into a passage behind the statue of Wilfred the wild, that took them down to the ground.

“There’s...a passage to Hogsmeade.. and one to the shrieking shack” Harry panted at Draco questioningly.   
The other boy shook his head. “Forbidden forest is quicker” he managed.   
Harry didn’t argue but disillusioned himself when the other boy did and followed him out of the castle at a run down the hill, making for the black forbidding line of trees. 

At any second he expected to feel some kind of spell pull him back.. to feel Dumbledore’s hand on his shoulder dragging him down. But they reached the trees and crashed through the dark gloomy forest. 

When he got disorientated in the dark and stopped, no longer able to see the shimmer that was Draco, he felt a hand grab his and then they took off running again.   
He could see a blue marker up ahead and Draco seemed to run faster. He assumed that must be where they were heading.   
He was finding it hard to catch his breath now though.   
After another couple of metres he pulled his hand loose from Draco and collapsed down to his knees. He couldn’t get any air. 

“Potter!! We’re almost there. Get up!!! We need to move. They’ll come!”   
Draco had come back and was pulling at his arm, dragging him forward another half metre bodily.   
He choked and clawed at his throat. It was definitely worse, the closer he got to the blue marker. 

He dropped the disillusionment charm and shook his head at Draco with difficulty. “..Can’t.. neck.. go Draco!..”

Draco dropped to his knees, letting his own charm fall and looked at his neck. “I..don’t know how to fix it” he said, panicked. “I’ll.. I’ll be back. Stay here.”   
He flew up and ran to the marker, vanishing as he reached it. 

Harry crawled backward a few paces till he could breathe again and panted.   
He couldn’t leave.   
Dumbledore had placed some kind of enchantments on the necklace just as he’d feared. If he’d tried to leave last night he would have ended up the same way..   
He couldn’t get out.   
He was stuck here. A dog in a very large run. 

Bastard. 

He wished for a moment that Snape had abducted him or something. Or that he’d..   
but there was nothing else to wish for really. He hadn’t questioned Dumbledore till Hermione’s memories had been sent..   
Thinking of memories he remembered the one he still had of Snape. He hadn’t watched it. It had gotten a bit distracting with Draco and he’d thought he could watch it later.   
He didn’t have a pensieve now though. Dumbledore would probably be here any minute anyway. 

There was a crack and he thought someone had driven a pike through his skull. His scar.. oh god it hurt.. 

“no... Draco! Not him..”


	21. Chapter 21

Voldemort was sitting drinking tea from flowery teacups (apparently because it tasted better with irises and gladioli on the service) and listening to some drivel about a creature that he was almost certain did not exist and the trouble that a certain tribe he had never heard of had been having with it. 

The little blond girl seemed delighted to have the opportunity to tell him about this. She was enthusiastically rabbiting on in a continuous stream of nonsense. It was a dramatic change to her communication style in any normal conversation – in which she gave the impression that she was on some kind of strong potion that had both calming and hallucinogenic properties. 

The disturbing thing was that part of him was beginning to question the possible existence of these Snorkaks. He was questioning the teachings he’d acquired in his own magizoological studies. Most of his mind was observing this entire charade with impatient disgust but the small uncertainty was nesting in the back of his mind even so.

He was trying to remind himself why the girl wasnt hanging from her ankles in the dungeons when Draco apropos of nothing apparated panting into the room.   
Raising his wand to crucio the brat for his impudence, he was halted when Draco choked out “Potter wants to run! Can’t get out! Necklace! Please come!!” 

He vanished the cup he held and grabbed the boy by the collar of his robes, dragging him to an inch from his face.   
“Where?!” he hissed urgently.   
Draco managed to get out that Potter was a few metres from the forbidden forest apparition point. 

He hesitated. He could not get through the ward there. He would be unable to do anything. 

Making the decision quickly he dragged the boy by side-along apparition to the muggle laboratory where Hermione was sitting on a labstool at a bench chatting with a Chinese man.   
Severus was not in view but he could summon the man shortly. It made no difference.   
Striding to her, he grabbed her with the hand that wasn’t trailing a dizzy blond wizard and apparated them both to the marker, summoning Lucius and Severus at the same time. 

Hermione, bewildered and light headed nearly crashed to the ground on arrival and he dropped Malfoy to balance her.   
The crack behind him informed him that Severus was with them.   
“My Lord?!” he started, confused.

Hermione suddenly jolted upright. “Harry!!” she yelped in surprise.

Voldemort’s own head flew up, scanning and finding the boy standing about ten metres away.

“Mione!” the brat called. “I can’t come closer. There’s some kind of spell on your necklace. Dumbledore gave me it. It strangles me.” 

Hermione immediately moved to go to him and Voldemort grabbed her hurriedly.   
“No! Severus.. See if you can reach Potter and examine the item.”

The man next to him nodded and tried to pass the ward, finding it closed. 

“No.. he’s changed it. I’m shut out, my Lord.” 

Voldemort raged. “Where is Lucius?!!”   
He focused and reversed the apparition connection. The elder Malfoy appeared suddenly , one leg in a pair of expensive trousers, silk boxer clad arse bared to the world and promptly fell over.   
He looked unbrushed. It was shocking. Voldemort was certain he had seldom seen the man so put out. 

“My Lord” he managed, climbing to his feet and succeeding in putting on the trousers he had obviously been in the process of donning before the call.   
“You caught me in the shower. How can I –“

Voldemort interrupted impatiently, amusing though the man’s disorder was – time was rather short here.   
“See if you can pass the Hogwarts wards, Lucius, and examine the necklace that Potter is wearing. He wishes to exmatriculate.” 

The shirtless Lucius nodded and gingerly felt toward the barrier, finding a wall. 

“I am no longer welcome in Hogwarts apparently” he commented.

Hermione in his arms strained to reach forward toward the barrier. “I might be able to..”   
Voldemort hesitated. He had a terrible feeling about allowing the girl to go in and held her more tightly.   
“No, Hermione. You will not go in. It was an error to bring you. Severus.. hold her.. I have an ominous feeling about having her here. If anything unexpected occurs – take her back.” 

Hermione cried out in frustration. “NO!! Please! I can do it! I know I can.”

Severus stepped forward and gripped her carefully. Only when he was certain the man held her did he release her.   
As expected she nearly flew toward the barrier, her hand passing over the threshold before Severus dragged her back.   
“LOOK!! LOOK – I CAN GO THROUGH.. PLEASE.. LET ME HELP HIM!!” she cried desperately.   
Severus hesitated with her, looking to him for direction. He silenced her and turned back to Potter, who looked despairing. 

“Draco.. stay there” the boy said softly. 

Voldemort quirked even as Lucius spun and looked at his son confused.   
The boy had succeeded. Potter was trying to protect him. How sweet. He made a mental note to reward the boy for.. apparently being persuasive enough over the course of one afternoon to convince Potter to defect with him. He could hardly wait to see how he’d done it. But in the meantime.. if the boy could not be removed – it would be best if he could not be rewired either.   
Dumbledore would regret putting that little trinket on the boy. 

In thought, Voldemort dipped into his pockets, looking for a suitable object. There was nothing, apart from his wands, with a suitable magical signature. He frowned. A wand would be acceptable..   
Fingering both of his own he abandoned that idea and turned to the others, settling finally on Hermione.   
Oh she would despise him for this, he realised. But it was necessary.   
He moved to Hermione and dipped into her pockets looking for her wands. He inspected them both in the gloom and put back the thestral wand.   
The girl was expressing some choice expletives silently and he smirked at her. 

“Oh there, there.. You know I disliked this one to begin with. I shall replace it with a much finer wand. Calm yourself.” 

She did not calm herself and he turned away chuckling at her furious tantrum.   
True.. he would never allow another to take his wand in that manner, but she belonged to him.. and thus everything that belonged to her belonged to him also by transitive association.   
Besides.. it was essentially his wand. He had generously gifted it to her and now he required it back. 

Focusing on the wand in his hand he attempted to appraise it on a magical level. The transfiguration of magical objects was difficult at best. He actually found himself breathing fast as he grappled with the difficult object that apparently did not at all want to become a silver chain. He forced it with pure will into submission and held at the close a silvery string dangling over his hands. He then set about layering it in the enchantments that he desired.   
He would transform the necklace into the worst possible object from the headmaster’s perspective – an item which not only prevented direct legilimency but simultaneously allowed him to contact and communicate with the boy and which would prevent the necklace from being removed except by him. Dumbledore would be livid with rage when he found out. 

On that note.. the old bastard should be here by now. Unless he was slipping – and Lord Voldemort very much doubted that he was – he would have realised when the necklaces defences were activated. 

“Where are you, Albus?” he called lightly. 

He grabbed Lucius by the arm, pulling him around and staring into his eyes. This form of legilimency was less reliable, it depended upon the receivers ability to pick up on precise meaning. Nevertheless Lucius seemed to understand what he wanted and cracked away immediately. 

Potter was looking around fearfully. 

“Oh yes, Harry – I expect that he has been here for a while now. Come on Albus.. don’t be coy now. You aren’t fooling anyone and I am not sending Hermione or Draco back through the wards for you to capture.”   
He grabbed Draco absently and dragged the boy behind him, tossing him at Severus, who gripped him and Hermione with a blank resolute expression. 

There was silence. 

Potter looked around and turned back to them desperately.   
“Mione.. I miss you. I saw your-“   
He stopped and his expression made Voldemort turn even as a green flash shattered his shield.   
He spun and crouched in one movement, dropping the necklace into the leaves at his feet and casting another shield as fast as he could, even as a second green flash shattered it quickly and he saw Severus had his wand at Hermione’s throat. Draco was crumpled on the ground lying still.   
His servant’s eyes were entirely empty.

Inwardly Lord Voldemort cursed. He should have considered that. Stupid. Why had he brought her here? Why had he brought either of them there. He should have sent them back immediately.   
Severus had been too many years around Dumbledore. If this wasn’t an actual double play then he had some very deep control mechanisms seeded.   
All Voldemort could do was focus on his shielding. He needed to leave but he found he was not quite willing to leave without Hermione.   
This was a mess and becoming messier. 

He cast impedimenta on Severus and summoned the Lestranges, the only death eaters he was willing to expose before Dumbledore.   
A moment later the body of Draco vanished with a crack.   
Lucius somewhere. He had succeeded.

He felt something brush his leg faintly as he was putting up another high level shield layer over the other two already present.   
Multiple cracks around him were met with immediate flashes from two different points.   
Dumbledore wasn’t alone anymore.   
Voldemort threw his outermost shield layer wide over the group, concentrating on creating further layers, noticing too late that Severus, freed from the impedimenta, had stunned Hermione, picked her up bodily and was moving as if to toss her through the barrier.   
A hex from Potter made him drop her again. Voldemort thought that he might have to purchase a hat in order to eat it. Potter.. assisting him... It was certainly a paradigm shift.

Rodolphus was the first of the three arrivals to comprehend the situation and start firing off toward the sources of the hexes coming at them – the wards made it a pointless endeavour however and the soldier quickly turned to building the shields as he was doing..   
Bella frowned at Severus, who was bending to grab Hermione and cracked away again. Rabastan took his brother’s lead and sent off salvos of blinding flashes at everywhere the incoming hexes were coming from. Although they would not penetrate the wards, the flashes would disorientate any who were looking this way.   
It was all Voldemort could do to layer the shields thickly to prevent any of them from sustaining damage. Most of the hexes coming at them were bright green, each of those destroying a layer.   
There were precious few shields that would prevent passage of the Avada – and none which would hold strong against it. The shield he was using was costly to maintain – far more costly than regular high level shields and he was layering far into the double digits. He could not afford to exhaust himself entirely... They were destroying the shields almost faster than he and Rodolphus could raise them... and if there were no more layers left..   
He would not remain for that point, no matter what the losses might be. 

Lucius suddenly appeared by his side, shrugging off an invisibility cloak and set about casting on Severus who was again lifting a limp Hermione and preparing to toss her in.   
At that moment the Potions Master collapsed and Bella appeared behind him, gripping him and disapparating.   
Lucius was quick to react, slipping back under his invisibility cloak.   
Hexes were flying low over the girl’s prone body now. There was no way that Lucius could possibly reach her through the hail, nevertheless she disappeared with a crack moments later. 

He caught a view of Potter shaking his fist in triumph in the air.   
The brat was pleased he had retained her? His influence with the memories must have been more effective than even he had anticipated.   
He noted the figure standing behind the boy and informed the two Lestranges “It is time to leave.”   
As he was holding most of the shields they nodded and cracked away immediately, leaving him. 

There was a brief salvo of hexes in their absence but he had many dozens of layers up now and he was not concerned. 

He stood calmly, smirking at Potter and the insane waif behind him as the hexes tapered off.   
He could feel a familiar tingle in the back of his mind informing him that the girl had been successful. 

Astounding. He had not even had to tell her what was required. A strange but perhaps useful little creature. He was almost regretful that he had been forced to give her up.   
Nevertheless – the gain had been worth it. 

Dumbledore had not realised yet. He would love to see the look on his ragged old face when he discovered Lord Voldemort’s coup de grace of the day.   
He focused on Harry in his mind and the boy jumped slightly and then nodded.   
Good boy.. 

“Albus.. does your Order know that you keep the so called Savior of the Light a prisoner? That the boy very nearly asphyxiated himself trying to escape you?” 

There was silence and then the form of the headmaster melted out of the shadows. 

“Tom.. as you have just proven.. had Harry been able to leave, he would in all likelihood be dead now. He is kept here for his own good and for the good of all. Soon enough he will grow up and realise how his actions affect the entire wizarding world. When he does..he will defeat you.” 

Voldemort nodded as if considering the argument.   
“Perhaps.. Who can say what I might have done had the boy come to me willingly. I do know however that the spell you employed upon Severus was extremely dark and probably planted quite some time ago. A nasty thing to do to one’s allies, Albus. You know you gave him to me, don’t you? After altering his mind at least twice.. and seeking to do so a third time..” 

Albus strolled closer, a cruel glint where the repulsive twinkle usually lived. “You can speak freely Tom.. None of the others will hear. Not even Harry, poor confused boy that he is.   
It was necessary, for the greater good, to assist Severus to view you in the correct light. One day.. if he survives, he will understand that.”   
Dumbledore smiled an irritating smile. Voldemort suppressed the fury he felt welling up. If the bastard forced him to destroy Severus now that he had determined he might wish to have the man again, his wrath would exceed anything the wizarding world had seen thus far. 

“I expect I shall have an interesting time untangling him.. however you have lost your ‘Savior’, Albus. He may not be able to leave..at least not while Hogwarts wards remain intact.. but he has seen your true nature and he despises you.. you will not be able to change that now.”   
He smirked at the way the old man’s brow furrowed and he turned, looking at Harry with uncertainty and then fury. Dumbledore turned back with narrowed eyes.

“It changes nothing, Tom. The boy will still destroy you. It is prophesized.” 

Voldemort considered this for a minute. “There are always loopholes Albus..” he offered neutrally and turned on the spot, disapparating back to the castle. 

 

On arriving in the grand hall he found a circus. Hermione was arching on the ground under Bella’s cruciatus. Severus was physically struggling with Rodolphus and Rabastan while Draco and Lucius were ignoring everyone and yelling at one another under a muffliato. 

He snarled and sent Bella flying against the wall, Severus into an incarcerous and dispelled the Malfoy’s muffliato in time to hear “-FOLLOWING ORDERS!” 

Striding to the broken looking Hermione curled on the floor he picked her up very carefully, noting her whimper, and carried her to the black, tarnished throne, sitting himself down and examining her.   
She looked at him intelligently enough although her eyes were clouded with pain. A gentle probe suggested her mind was still intact.   
It was merely physical then. How long had Bella been cruciating her while he stood chatting with Albus?! 

He looked up and caught Draco’s eye.   
“Go and retrieve cruciatus potion from Severus’ lab. I believe your godfather may be...unreliable.. for a time.”   
Draco nodded and apparated away in a clap. 

Lord Voldemort looked around the other five. Lucius looked confused. The man still had no shirt on. The Lestrange brothers were both eyeing the way he held Hermione, Rodolphus with cold calculation and Rabastan with naked horror, and Bella was picking herself up off the floor dazed.   
On the floor Severus was snarling and glaring at him.

How inconvenient Albus thrice-damned Dumbledore truly was. He now had a wonderful collection of muggle scientists upstairs somewhere and no potions-master to work with them. 

“You destroyed my wand!” Hermione whispered resentfully. 

He looked down at her and felt weary and irritated. He had ordered a revel to begin in only a few hours and he did not feel at all in the spirit for such an event now.   
Objectively.. he had both won and lost in the encounter.. however the balance was decidedly toward the losses.   
The gains with Potter were significant, however he had lost his best asset in Hogwarts now that Draco was officially exposed, he had lost the crazy little blonde that he had only acquired last night and, most importantly - he had lost his potions master. Some of his most faithful servants were now suspicious of him.   
Albus had, objectively seen, won the better outcome in that clash. 

“Master!!” Bellatrix had righted herself and now she threw herself down on her knees at the foot of the stairs before him. She was looking up in distress at Hermione.   
“I don’t understand.. why is she.. why... she is a mudblood, master! She deserves death! Why is she to be healed. I thought..”   
She looked like a woman whose world was crumbling around her. 

He mustered her, delving lightly into her thoughts. She wanted to kill Hermione. Already. She was thinking that at the first possible opportunity she would get rid of her and destroy the evidence.   
Drawing his wand he unflinchingly obliviated and stunned her.   
Rodolphus and Lucius looked unsurprised but Rabastan gaped and seemed disgusted. Unwilling to deal with this he showed the younger Lestrange the same treatment as Bella. The man crumpled. 

He beckoned what were undoubtedly his left and right hand servants to him.   
Rodolphus looked at the girl in his arms with a conflicted expression. Lucius’ face was carefully blank but he asked in a low concerned voice “What has happened to Severus, my Lord?!”   
At that, Hermione looked up at him with concern also.   
Luckily, he was preserved from facing that particular issue immediately when Draco returned and offered him a bottle of thin yellowish liquid. 

“I think this is it, my Lord” he said uncertainly. “It wasn’t marked but it looks and smells right and it was next to pain relieving and muscle relaxing potions. I could tell by the hellebore and Agapanthis” 

Voldemort looked at him speculatively as he opened and sniffed the potion himself, then dripped a tiny amount on his finger and smeared it, noting the texture.   
“it is correct.”   
He carefully lifted the small girl in his lap upright and placed the bottle to her lips. “Drink as much as you are able” he ordered. “You will wish you had drunk more in three or four hours.” 

Hermione, obviously taking him seriously, almost managed to finish the foul tasting bottle before the potion reacted with her stomach and she turned positively green. He told her to remain still and breathe deeply and it would pass, and then he turned back to Lucius. 

“I do not know how deep the damage may be. It seems that Dumbledore seeded his mind with triggers for suggestions over the years...I do not yet know what he has done to him, however, know that I will ensure all possible is done to repair what has been damaged. 

Draco hovered on the other side of Rodolphus. He turned to him pensively, his eye flicking between the two Malfoys.   
“Lucius.. Draco has been exposed and cannot return to Hogwarts. I have yet to determine how this exactly transpired. I shall return Hermione to her room and then I would see your memories Draco. Lucius - You might perhaps send him to Durmstrang, one of the smaller schools or engage private trainers for the boy.” 

Draco turned to his father in wide eyed horror. “I don’t want to go to Durmstrang!” 

Hermione twitched slightly in his arms and he looked down at her, pursing his lips. “Ah. It is beginning I fear. Do not expect the next few hours to be particularly pleasant, my dear.”   
The girl’s face was tight and pinched and she nodded slightly.   
Glancing at his servants he stood with Hermione and apparated on the spot to his bedroom.

“What happened?!” Hermione immediately asked, although her voice was rather too thin and breathy for his tastes.   
“Harry was trying to get to you. What happened at Hogwarts? Why wouldn’t you let me help him?! Why did Severus stun me!? What is going to happen to Draco now and why in Merlin’s name was he with Harry – they hate each other!   
You destroyed my wand! Without even asking for it! I would have given it to you.. you didn’t need to just take it.” 

Voldemort frowned at the demanding tone. The girl was in pain but there were limits to his tolerance. He divestoed her clothing, shifting his grip slightly as it wriggled off her body and drew back the covers in the bed with a wave, placing her down in the centre.   
Then, drawing his wand, he petrified her below the neck.   
She whimpered slightly. 

The aftereffects of a severe application of the curse felt worse when one could not move, however the results were better and he did not intend to allow her to be permanently damaged due to Bella’s lack of discipline and ignorance of the context. She would endure it. 

He drew the covers up, tucking her in slightly and sat down beside her, stroking her hair out of her face slightly.   
“If you require assistance you may call for Pluck or Tilly” he informed her softly. “In answer to your many questions – I have been sending Harry memories, explaining what had happened to you and showing that you were currently being treated well. He has twice demanded more memories.. This morning Draco took it upon himself to require a sexual favour from the boy in exchange for the rather risky mission to leave school at eight am and request further memories of me.” 

Hermione looked horrified.

“Harry complied..with enjoyment, I might add, and I instructed Draco to become..more friendly.. with him..   
I do not know what has happened to cause the boy to desire to leave Hogwarts so greatly that he would risk coming to me. I shall examine Draco’s memories shortly.   
I would not allow you to assist Harry because I had the feeling that if you passed that ward, you would be unable to leave it again – and indeed, Albus was waiting as we all stood – almost certainly hoping for that very eventuality...   
I should not have brought you. I was thinking of how helpful you were last night and not of your probable emotional reaction to the situation.   
Severus..was under some form of compulsion I believe. Dumbledore as much as told me that he has altered his mind. I hope I will be able to restore him.   
Why do you care what will happen to Draco? As far as I could tell you and the boy do not see eye to eye.” 

The girl looked down and wavered slightly.   
“Well.. yes. I think he’s a complete jerk but.. he’s probably one of the best students apart from me in some subjects. I got used to the idea of working with him in professor Snape’s lab before everything went wrong. He’s not entirely stupid. If professor Snape is..hurt.. you’re going to need someone to brew for you aren’t you?” 

He blinked. He had thought of the same thing earlier when the boy had fetched the cruciatus potion. Clever girl.   
“We shall see” he responded obliquely. 

She looked up at him as if what she was going to say grated against her.   
“He’s given up Hogwarts to serve you.. Maybe you could-...”

He frowned at her, stopping her. “Lucius can afford tutors Hermione. As to your wand – it was a useless wand to begin with. You did not need it, you merely liked its appearance and the idea of having a sphinx claw core. I doubt you used it more than twice since I gave it to you. And now it is protecting Harry from magical brainwashing. A far better use for it.” 

Hermione appeared to pout slightly, looking guilty. “Yes but.. you just took it from me” she whispered, hurt. “You just took my wand away and basically broke it.. and it’s good that Harry’s protected from whatever now... but if you’d needed two – I’d have no wand at all now. “   
She looked up at him with wide eyes   
“You just took my wand away, Tom. Don’t you understand?! Without a thought. Without hesitation. Without asking.. You didn’t even trust me to say yes. Now I know that any wand you might give me in future could be taken from me as soon as it’s convenient.   
I..I can’t describe..how..” She seemed to struggle and he had the impression she had wanted to move her body.

“I want to curse Bellatrix” she whispered guiltily. 

He smirked.

“And you shall, my dear. Perhaps tomorrow evening if you are feeling well enough.. perhaps sometime later if you are not. You will no doubt experience a very unpleasant night.   
I will try to check on you once or twice and return you to sleep if you wake, however I must be elsewhere tonight.   
The success in retrieving Antonin was witnessed by many of my death eaters. The debacle this afternoon by comparatively few and only two are in a position to discuss it.   
I must make an appearance at the revel tonight and show that we have sustained a victory. It is expected.” 

He saw the small face pinch slightly and she nodded slowly.

“What are the trials?” she asked very softly. 

He felt a genuine smile cross his face. The little witch was so delightfully tenacious.   
“They are...requirements of those who desire my mark, to ensure that they are steadfast in their determination to serve me. They involve enduring severe pain, carrying out an act that is against the natural will of the initiate, submitting to a rather deep form of legilimency and, of course receiving the mark in silence.” 

The girl blinked slowly, thinking about it. “What is an act that is against the natural will of the initiate?” she asked then. 

He tilted his head looking down at her. Why did this little creature inspire patience in him?!   
Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead. “It is different for each initiate.” He informed her, placing his hand on her head and thinking of a sleep charm.   
She was gone before he sat up. 

He looked at her again. So peaceful. A little broken doll. She would no doubt be crying in a few hours, he mused as he stood and paced two steps, apparating back to the great hall, where Lucius and Draco were again arguing under muffliato and Rodolphus stood looking down at Bella with a thoughtful expression on his face. 

“Draco.”

The boy looked around immediately, getting a fright.   
He must have been quite emotional indeed not to register his Master’s return, Voldemort mused. 

“Come to me. I will see your memory now.” 

The young blonde approached him nervously and sank to his knees at the foot of the throne. 

He did not hesitate but plunged in. Observing the boy from the time he had released him this morning. He stood by as Harry dithered and then told Draco what was bothering him. Draco’s play on the other boy was quite effective.   
It was clear he was fighting his own squeamishness, however he managed to turn even that to his advantage, Voldemort noted approvingly. Harry seemed to persuade Draco to enjoy himself quite convincingly, from the blonde’s reactions to him.   
It was..not unpleasant..to watch them together. He found himself somewhat aroused and this was only heightened by the shock and embarrassment and..yes.. fear.. he felt emanating from the young wizard who perceived his reaction.   
When Albus entered the room and, seeing the two thus occupied, seated himself to watch them, Voldemort experienced a wave of loathing for the man. Draco’s horror and shame was like a living thing, twisting and snapping when he realised the headmaster had seen them. 

Voldemort added one further inch of hate to the determination to kill the old bastard. 

He agreed with Draco and, from the look on the boy’s face, Harry’s belief also that Albus would do something unpleasant to Draco in the detention he had ordered and saw that in fact.. it was this, rather than any particular persuasion of Draco’s that convinced Harry to try to flee with him.   
He stood by as they ran and felt Draco’s panic and quiet joy as he pulled Harry by the hand. He was thinking of how he would please his master and make his father proud. He was wondering whether he might have the chance to have Harry suck his cock once more before he was killed. There were faint highlights of guilt and sympathy but they were peripheral to the boy’s main focus, which, it turned out – was pleasing Voldemort himself, rather than Lucius.   
The boy was deeply upset when Harry fell to the ground and could not go on. Voldemort could feel him considering whether to levitate him bodily over the threshold, reasoning then that it would probably kill him, engaging in internal debate and then deciding to seek help. Under the circumstances, his choice to apparate directly to his Master without warning was justified. 

He moved quickly through the events that he himself had perceived and stood beside Draco in the great hall as Lucius cast muffliato and hissed reproval at him. He had placed himself in danger. He had allowed himself to be stunned. What did he think he would do without NEWTs?! What was he doing with Potter?!.. he had never before been so inclined. What would his mother say?! He had almost been killed – it was sheer luck that Severus or some other had not avadaed him, the way he stood gormlessly on a battlefield. He was very disappointed with the showing Draco had made. It went on and on.   
Voldemort brightened when Draco seemed to snap suddenly and started yelling back. It wasn’t a battlefield when he was stunned – no one had even fired off a shot. How in Merlin’s name was he to know that Severus would do that – did his father suspect Severus would suddenly attack him? What did it matter whether he had NEWTs or not – he wouldn’t have gotten them if he’d stayed anyway and he didn’t care what mother thought either – she was a silly cow who barely knew him and his father could shut up about his sexual preferences – he wasn’t a fag like him - he hadn’t been doing anything with Potter but following orders!”   
It was quite entertaining to watch, Voldemort found. He skipped ahead to the next one in his absence and found the argument centred around whether he would be sent to Durmstrang or another institution such as Callow Height, Knoxlea or Sedridge, none of which Draco had any desire to attend.

“i’m going to stay here!” he insisted, to his father’s infuriation.   
The older wizard reasoned and cajoled with gritted teeth, looking for all things as if the boy had made a disgrace of himself, while Draco simply shook his head and insisted he wasn’t going to go and he didn’t care about the contacts his father had at this or that institution. He didn’t give a fuck about the shame if he did not graduate. He wasn’t bloody going! 

Voldemort mustered the boy again. He had shown loyalty.. he was determined. Admittedly his pain tolerance was very low and he did not kill.. however the boy was obedient.   
Hermione had even spoken in his support.   
Perhaps he could be useful..

Perhaps he could be improved.. 

He pulled out of the young wizards mind with that thought in mind.   
Draco wavered on his knees dizzily.   
Voldemort inspected him as he found his balance again and the silvery eyes focused clearly once more up at him.   
Lucius had eyes like slate.. cold and grey and hard.. but, he had always thought the younger Malfoy’s eyes resembled the surface of a lake on an overcast day. Silvery and liquid. 

“I am pleased with you, Draco. Although you should have realised that keeping Harry away so long would cause chaos – I realise that with the time constraints you thought you were under and your own ..nervousness of the task itself.., your behaviour was quite understandable.”

He caught a furious expression flash across the almost perfectly blank face of the boy’s father.

“You may attend the revel this evening as promised, since you were successful in the task I gave you” 

Lucius blinked and looked at his son in concern. Draco ignored him. 

“Thank you my Lord” he responded automatically. 

Although his face was as shuttered as the boy could make it, he could detect that the youth had enjoyed being praised.   
He narrowed his eyes consideringly.

“In light of your godfather’s condition, Draco – I believe you will assist Hermione with brewing just as you were going to do at Hogwarts before Severus removed himself” 

Draco brightened and a tiny smirk appeared at the corners of his mouth. “Then I will stay here, My Lord?” 

Voldemort shot a glance at Lucius, whose blank mask was beginning to show cracks.   
“You will.” He confirmed, observing with interest the way furious energy swirled around the older Malfoy. The very air seemed to haze before him.   
“You will undertake tutelage in all of your Hogwarts subjects here, Draco. I..may.. perhaps.. on occasion – allow you to participate in the training I am currently giving Hermione – should I believe that you are capable of keeping up with the pace at which she learns.” 

Draco’s eyes widened and he smiled broadly. “Thank you, My Lord!” he said quickly. “I’ll show you that I’m better than Granger.” 

Voldemort smirked. The boy was in no way ever going to be as good as the chit but his enthusiasm was encouraging. He could strive to reach her level. It would only be of benefit to him.

“My Lord! Draco will have no NEWTs!” 

Turning to the fuming Lucius, who he had just countermanded, he responded in a conciliatory tone “He shall have NEWTs, Lucius. In fact he shall attain them much earlier than all others. Draco and Hermione will complete their NEWTs by the end of their sixth year and they will achieve O’s.”   
He looked at the younger blond with a warning glance   
“I will see to it that they are tested by Ministry examiners according to all due legal process recognised in the Wizarding World. And now, do cease berating the boy. He completed a task that went quite against his natural inclinations today, and, were it not for Dumbledore’s security on the boy, he would have single-handedly delivered Harry Potter to me.   
As it is, he has enabled me to secure Potter against Dumbledore’s further meddling and he escaped unharmed – You will respect that, Lucius.” 

He turned his gaze back to the younger Malfoy, who seemed to be nearly fizzing with joy at having his father dressed down and told to respect him.   
“Draco.. you may leave and prepare yourself for the evening’s festivities. I shall see you later, I imagine.” 

Draco nodded happily and bowed to him, turned and nodded respectfully at his father and then stepped away and disapparated. 

Amused by the boy, Voldemort turned back to Lucius who looked only marginally mollified. He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at the man.   
“Come now, Lucius.. even you cannot be displeased with the boy.. He has done well.. and I promise you that he will be the youngest Malfoy to gain his NEWTs since the creation of the exam. What is your concern now?”   
He watched as Lucius struggled to compose his mask once more and slipped past his fractured occlumentic shields. Lucius was irritated that he had been undermined in front of his son.. he was disturbed that Draco had been obliged to engage in sexual acts with another boy.. particularly Potter.. and he did not want him at the revel tonight either – the boy was barely sixteen, for Merlin’s sake!   
Most of all though, he was troubled at the thought of having Draco here in the Dark Lord’s domain.   
There was an array of concerns there. He thought the boy was safer at Hogwarts, he worried that one of the other death eaters.. or indeed the Dark Lord himself.. might see his weakness and harm him.. worried the boy would shame him publicly...and he was also uncomfortable with having Draco around him so much. He might have told himself he would spend more time shaping the boy but he did not wish to be forced to have him constantly here.   
It was convenient when he was away at school. He could tell himself that he would spend the time with the boy when he was next home. 

Voldemort pulled out of the man’s mind pensively. He listened to Lucius answer vaguely and untruthfully to his query and pondered how best to address the man’s discomforts.   
Lucius was useful. He was more useful when he was not in a sulk. He became..unpredictable when he was discontented and under less emotional circumstances the man’s shielding was annoyingly good after his decades of service. 

“I recognise that you should have the right to determine how and where he is to be schooled, Lucius.. and you may do as you wish, however I am quite certain that Dumbledore will make an effort to reclaim and use the boy should he be returned to one of the smaller British institutions.   
Durmstrang is an adequate school but rather brutal and Draco’s temperament would not do well there. He would be..exploited..in a variety of ways that I am sure you would disapprove of. Draco is far safer here than he ever was at Hogwarts, I assure you. If you are in doubt you need look only at Severus. That would have been Draco’s fate, if the boy had not flown today.   
I will see to it that no death eater seeks to harm him and I expect in time, as he becomes stronger, this will no longer be necessary – the boy is quite intelligent, Lucius. He will study more subjects here than he was undertaking at Hogwarts and will emerge more qualified and proficient.   
In the interests of continuity, I do think it may be best if the boy’s tuition here proceeds much as it did in school – you would see him on the weekends when he is not too busy with study or brewing.” 

He watched as the other wizard calmed slowly, responding to reasoning. He added as an afterthought, “I will inform you tonight what my estimation of Severus condition is. You may go, Lucius.” 

The man looked up at him with a strange expression in his eyes. Confusion and gratefulness were there. “Thank you, my Lord. I..” he hesitated and then shook his head stepping back and bowing, His hair falling over the bare shoulders. A moment later he disapparated. 

Leaning back in his throne, he turned his eye upon Rodolphus, who had been standing quietly waiting, an expression of faint approval and admiration on his face.   
Glancing at Rabastan and Bella, he sighed.   
“I have obliviated their memory back to the moment of apparition to the forbidden forest. When I wake them, they will believe they have apparated to my side upon being summoned. I have allowed you to keep your memories, Rodolphus, because I believe you capable of behaving sensibly; of reasoning rationally. Do not prove me wrong! 

He enervated the two death eaters and they woke, Bella sitting up with a start. “My Lord! What happened? You summoned me..why..” She looked confused and trailed off, her brow furrowed.   
Rabastan sat up more slowly, rubbing a hand on his head as if he had a headache. 

Voldemort smiled at them wanly. “I’m afraid there was an incident with Severus” he informed them. “Dumbledore has been controlling his mind and apparently some mechanism has been triggered somehow this evening. He became violent and attacked everyone in the great hall. I had to restrain him, as you see.” 

All eyes shifted to the bound potions master silenced and looking back calmly. The man had ceased glaring and snarling at some point and Voldemort found that this quiet hateful sulleness bothered him far more than the glaring gnashing creature he’d found fighting the Lestranges.   
Bella and Rabastan looked dubious. He wished he could simply banish them to their quarters and be done with it.   
Summoning his resolve he set about dealing with them as if he did not have a half dozen other things on his mind. 

 

 

Harry stood, shifting uneasily from foot to foot as Dumbledore approached. Glancing over his shoulder he saw Luna had gone. 

“I am very disappointed in you, Harry.” Dumbledore said as he walked toward him slowly. “You have made a foolish decision tonight. I realise you were distressed at being discovered in flagrante delicto..bothered at the thought of facing the punishment you had earned.. however to attempt to throw your own life away tonight over so little.. It is most disheartening. Draco Malfoy was deceiving you, Harry. He has pledged himself to serve the man who is seeking to kill you – who has been seeking this end since your very birth. You saw that yourself when he brought his master here to retrieve you.” 

Harry swallowed and then responded quietly. “It won’t work headmaster. I know what you’ve done. I’m not going to listen to you anymore.” 

Dumbledore made a tsk motion of annoyance and flicked his wand at him and Harry knew no more as the stunner dropped him like a stone.

 

 

Adjusting the sit of his elegant black robes, Draco half turned, examining himself from the back. The revel would commence in only an hour. He couldn’t wait.   
Finally he’d get to see what the other death eaters laughed and talked about, stopping or muffling themselves when he and the other students tried to listen. 

His father had not said much about the revels – oh he’d explained the basic idea – namely that there was wine and music and muggles, witches and wizards that death eaters could take and treat however they pleased – but he’d been closed lipped about what actually went on. He’d just smiled slightly and told Draco that in time he’d see for himself. 

His father hadn’t seemed too pleased that he’d be seeing tonight.   
Draco smirked.   
Young death eaters generally weren’t allowed to attend the revels till they were at least 18.. but it seemed not only would he get his NEWTs before his father had done, he would also see his first revel at a younger age. 

The knowledge was sweet. 

He’d yelled at him. He’d been so frustrated by the way his father didn’t seem to understand that none of what had happened was his fault that he’d just screamed in his face. He thought his father would curse him but then the Dark Lord came back and his father backed off. And now the Dark Lord might even teach him personally!   
That thought led unavoidably to another that made him scowl.   
The Dark Lord really was teaching the mudblood. He’d hoped that Potter’s memories were just some kind of trick but the way he’d stunned aunt Bella and picked Granger up..he’d looked at her with the same look from the memory.   
He really was teaching granger dark magic. And..comforting her. And so forth.   
It was sick. How could he stand to touch her like that?! She was filth! He should have killed her when he got his hands on her.   
And now.. if the Dark Lord taught him anything, he’d probably do it while that mudblood animal stood there and watched. It wasn’t right. 

There must be some reason why he was doing it, he told himself – but he didn’t know what the reason might be and not knowing, all he was left with was the sickly disgust of it. 

Maybe..maybe she’d be at the revel tonight? Or..at least someone like her. He’d look for a mudblood girl like Granger and he’d practice his curses on the dirty creature.   
He smirked at himself in the mirror. It was going to be brilliant! 

Vaguely, as he moved to the door to go downstairs to the apparition room, he spared a thought for Potter. He’d looked scared when the Dark Lord had appeared. He remembered the way Potter had gripped his hand tightly as they ran. It felt-... 

Snarling he tried to turn his mind to something else.   
Fuck potter. He was a moron. He deserved whatever the Dark Lord might do to him. He deserved whatever Dumbo might do to him too. Serves him right for following after the old prick for years and getting Draco himself into trouble with him.   
His mind perversely flicked to Potter’s body on top of him.. Potter’s mouth at his neck.. warm skin..breath.. holding him...kissing..\

NO! 

Draco stopped and tugged at his hair with his hands in irritation. Argh. He needed to get rid of this memory. He hated Potter. He wasn’t fucking gay and he hadn’t liked what had happened.   
It was just an order.   
It was just so that he could go to the revel tonight. 

And now he was going to the revel so that was fine.   
He just needed to get the bloody boy who refused to sodding die out of his brain and enjoy his reward. 

He stomped discomposed to the apparition room and was away the minute his feet touched the tiles.

 

 

Severus glared at the man who had destroyed everything he had ever loved... Lilly... His mother.. the life of the boy who should have been his son.  
The evil bastard wasn’t looking in his direction at the moment – he was preoccupied with the Malfoy brat. 

He had to convince him that everything was fine.. that he was loyal. No cause for alarm.   
This couldn’t go on any longer. The monster had to die. It had taken years to win the creature’s trust and minutes to lose it but it was a sacrifice that had needed to be made at the time, even if he’d failed to reclaim the muggleborn for the headmaster.   
The Granger girl was dangerous in the Dark Lords hands. She needed to be removed. The prissy little bitch was far too good at coming up with whatever Potter needed and if she did the same thing for the Dark Lord then she would constitute a serious threat.   
The headmaster was right. Removing her would weaken the Dark Lord. He’d whispered to Severus to get her back inside Hogwarts wards but Severus hadn’t acted quickly enough. They had stopped him.   
The Dark Lord was controlling Potter somehow because even the stupid boy had hexed him.   
Then he’d hoped Bella might kill the girl.. He’d told her that Granger was the Dark Lord’s whore and she’d attacked her as he’d expected, but Rodolphus had tried to subdue him, his brother joining in when Severus fought back. While he was otherwise occupied, Bella had been stopped before the girl could go mad or expire.   
Now he was bound and the bastard was talking about his mind being tampered with. 

He was suspicious right now, but all Severus needed to do was convince him that whatever he tried to do to ‘fix’ him had worked. He’d win back the snake’s trust and then he’d destroy everyone here that he could reach. When the headmaster brought Potter to complete the prophesy – the Dark Lord would stand alone, severely weakened. The light would prevail. And when the Dark Lord fell.. Potter would follow. The headmaster would see to it. Only then would the wizarding world heal. Only then would this all be over..  
Only then might he stop remembering her.. stop hearing her screams in his mind.. seeing her accusing disappointed face.  
Lilly...   
Only then could he truly atone for her death.


	22. Chapter 22

The boy was looking shellshocked. Lord Voldemort lounged in his throne and observed his nervous shaking. 

A cursory inspection had showed that Draco really had had no concrete idea of what took place at the revels.   
The blood had bothered him. The screaming. 

Lucius, standing some distance from him, looked put out. 

He had offered Travers, Malfoy senior and Rodolphus first pick – and the large selection was quite fetching – but Lucius had glanced at Draco and respectfully bowed out with a pitiful excuse.   
He did not want his boy to see his darkest side, apparently.   
Lord Voldemort had considered forcing the man to perform, but decided that this was not exactly in the spirit of ‘rewarding him’ for retrieving Hermione during the incident in the forbidden forest. Instead he called him up and invited him to set any muggle of his choice aside for later.. to enjoy in private.   
This was accepted without hesitation. Although Lucius preferred witches or wizards, he would content himself with an attractive, disposable, muggle when offered no more appealing alternative. Victims from the magical community were few and far between, whereas muggles were plentiful and easily obtained. Those among the death eaters who were disgusted with the thought of touching muggles, soon found a means of reconciling their prejudice on some level or rationalising their behaviour to themselves, rather than miss out at a revel.

Lucius was presently watching Rodolphus and Rabastan playing with a muggle together, as was their general preference, and was feeling resentful toward Draco for spoiling his evening. 

Travers seemed to be pursuing a more emotional release rather than sexual. He had selected a boy and was peeling him, layer by layer with a spell normally used to shave ice. The blood was flowing in thick streams. The boy would not last much longer without medical attention.   
As if on cue Travers partially healed him and started in with burning hexes. 

The boy was still able to scream and each time he did, stopping only to gasp ragged breath and scream some more, Draco flinched and swallowed uncomfortably. 

Lord Voldemort turned his attention back to Rodolphus and Rabastan. Rodolphus had selected the muggle and then invited his brother to join him. It did not surprise the Dark Lord that the girl he had selected was young. Very young. And she had long curly hair.   
It was lighter than Hermione’s, and perhaps one could argue that he simply preferred curly haired women – Bella after all, had such an appearance, but this was not the case. Rodolphus thoughts were circling around Hermione.   
He had taunted the girl until she was approaching a terrified frenzy and only then had he diffindo’d her clothing. She had tried to cover her body and had been slapped for it.   
It was a comparatively gentle..playful.. blow but she had sobbed and cringed . 

Standing behind her and holding her wrists out to the side, whispering something in her ear, Rodolphus had bared her to the others, who were watching impatiently – they would not be allowed to take their own choices until the favoured few had finished.   
The girl had clenched her eyes closed and sobbed and had received a stinging hex for it. She was not allowed to close her eyes. 

Objectively seen, her body was not at all like Hermione’s he thought to himself. Hermione was slender and long thighed but her breasts were a pleasant handful and her ass was nicely rounded.   
This girl was nearly anorexically thin and could not have been more than thirteen or fourteen. Still.. it was close enough, he supposed. He would have to watch Rodolphus. 

The man in question had forced the girl to her knees and was stroking her head. No doubt the room missed it but he had been able to hear through his thoughts his warning to the girl –   
“if you bite me.. I will heal it immediately and then I will knock ever last one of your teeth out.. and you will still swallow my cock.”   
The girl was terrified and had no idea what to do, but obeyed readily, choking and sobbing. 

The atmosphere in the room had sharpened with the beginning of play and the sharp scent of blood. At that point Draco had still been excited, aroused.. he too had seen Hermione in the girl.   
When Rodolphus had raped her, Draco had been envious, and when Rabastan joined them – taking, as his brother usually offered, her ass – that envy had escalated. He had wanted the muggle girl too..   
But when the brothers had started dissecting the girl mid-fuck and the cheers from the other death eaters had drowned out her high pitched agonised screams, Draco had turned an unflattering shade of green and lowered his eyes. He did not watch any more of the antics taking place centre ring. 

Perhaps the boy was simply squeamish about blood. 

He summoned him gently and Draco jumped and looked around guiltily, moving surreptitiously to his side and kneeling. 

“You are not enjoying yourself” he observed, not looking at him, but instead listening to Rodolphus’ mind snarling hate interspersed with the word ‘mudblood’. 

Draco didn’t respond – which, he considered objectively, was wiser than lying.   
The Dark Lord surveyed the muggles arrayed around the ring on their knees. There were sixty, mostly teen-aged girls and boys with a few adults and children thrown in for those with preferences.   
His eye stopped on a pretty strawberry blonde girl in her early twenties. She wore the glazed stare of the others but had large grey eyes and a curvy body.   
He overwhelmed and supplanted the imperius already upon her and summoned her. The girl walked zombie-like around the edge of the circle to where he and Draco watched. 

Draco was hoping that the girl wasn’t for him. He wanted something more like the girl Rodolphus was working on. His eye flicked to an older muggle – late twenties – with brown,shoulder length curly hair. It would be a small matter to lengthen her hair. 

Well.. he would be disappointed. He was not going to have a muggle he might fantasise into Hermione’s form. This muggle would do. 

“Draco. Come closer.” He instructed softly. 

The expression in the boy’s eyes shifted lightning fast into blind fear. “Please, my Lord! Please.. I’m grateful to be here. Please let me stay!!”   
His mind was in panic. Severus. Somehow Draco knew that the man had been a past sexual partner and now feared he was to be forced to serve in the same way. Lord Voldemort wondered vaguely whether Lucius or Severus were responsible for this knowledge. 

It mattered little. 

“Draco..” he repeated with a vague hint of threat. 

The boy grimaced and inched closer. The girl too approached and got down onto her knees before him, a placid empty expression on her face.   
He smiled thinly, glanced up at Rodolphus who was drenched in blood and rather preoccupied. Lucius,across the circle was watching him however and looked violently alarmed at Draco’s current position.   
In response, he stood and informed the room that they could begin. The procedure was known to all present and he did not need to remain to referee disputes.   
Lucius immediately tried to push through the swarming black cloaked bodies to get around the circle to him. 

He would be too late. 

Leaning down he gripped both Draco and the girl by the back of the neck and apparated on the spot. 

 

He stood smoothly, having begun the motion before the shift. The room they appeared in was not his own. Simply a guest suite. 

While Draco internally screamed and panicked, Lord Voldemort dedicated a few minutes to securing the room to his own required standards.   
Neither of the kneeling blondes had moved.   
Draco looked as if he were about to be ill. 

Lord Voldemort snorted in vague amusement.   
“I have warned you before about flattering yourself so, Draco. I did not bring you here to take you into my bed.” 

The terror flaring around the boy like flames only abated partially but the silvery eyes risked a glance up at him. “I wasn’t..” he trailed off, obviously thinking better of his lie.   
A good decision, Voldemort noted, his lips thinning slightly, and turned his attention to the girl.   
She was not unattractive. No offering in that room had been physically unappealing. Their selection was made with care for aesthetic appeal. This girl was one he might himself have selected, had she been virginal and of magical stock.   
She was neither. She had the ripe look about her of a young girl aware of the power she held over young boys around her. Sexuality awakened. She would suffice. 

He nudged her mind and she crawled over to him amiably, kneeling at his feet and looking up at him with vacant eyed adoration. 

“I realise, Draco-,” he said softly, allowing his fingertips to thread through the girl’s strawberry blonde silky hair, “-that the girl would not have been your first choice. Can you conceive of a reason why I might have denied you your choice, despite how you have pleased me today?” 

The blonde boy frowned in a slightly petulant manner.   
“Yes.” He mumbled but did not elaborate. 

“Yes.” Voldemort agreed with him. “Hermione Granger is not for you.. and is certainly not below you in my favour. While I may have...tolerated.. Rodolphus’ desire to express his frustration upon an approximate lookalike.. there is far greater justification for his ire than for your own...I will not allow you to harbour the delusion that you might ever lay finger upon what is mine, Draco.” 

The blonde gasped and looked up into the stern crimson gaze, horrified and gaping. “Yours?! But.. she’s ..she’s a mudblood!!.. Filthy! disgusting! I wouldn’t want-“ 

He interrupted him, rolling his eyes. “Draco.. I have obliviated you of certain memories recently. The situation at Hogwarts rendered it necessary. Although you do not remember having done so, you have in the past already attempted to force the girl.. and been severely punished for it, I might add. I am quite aware of your attraction toward her, even if you are not.” 

This information seemed almost to overload the young wizard’s mind for a moment.   
“I..with Granger?!.. why?! That’s.. wait. Can we go back to the part where she’s yours?! What does that MEAN?!..” 

Losing patience he snapped at him “It means what you imagine it to mean, boy. The girl is in every sense mine!.. She is the most powerful witch of the age and is mine. Her lineage is of no interest to me in light of her intellect and ability.”   
Remembering himself, he drew his wand and flicked an extremely brief crucio at the insolent blond.   
“I will not justify my choices to you boy. You need only comprehend that the girl will never be in your bed or.. in all likelihood, at the end of your wand.   
As you currently believe you could not possibly desire her – it is not a difficult concept to accept, I trust.” 

The boy shook his head, pulling himself back up onto his knees, pale and serious. 

“Excellent.” He bit off tightly and released the imperio on the muggle. 

The girl seemed to sway for a moment, the soft blissful smile fading on her face, replaced with confusion and then horrified fear. She looked around herself in a panic and then back up at him, her eyes widening and a scream growing in her throat.   
“Silence” he hissed sharply and, astoundingly enough, it managed to prick her into obedience. Both her hands flew to her mouth and she stifled herself, softly hyperventilating in fear.   
He gifted her with a small smirk of approval, shifting his eyes then to Draco and raising his eyebrows suggestively. “You may begin” he informed him lightly. 

Now both blondes looked confused and frightened.   
He turned away, the smirk on his face widening and moved to the fireplace, seating himself in one of the tall wingback chairs there. 

“My Lord?” Draco asked uncertainly. 

He snorted and continued to watch the flames.   
“Whatever you wish, Draco. The room is fully warded. No other will disturb you. The girl is yours. You may do with her what you will.” 

The soft feminine cry of shocked terror preceded thuds as the girl ran to the door and then bangs as she beat upon it when it refused to open. 

“Er... and you’re going to.. stay here.. while I..”   
Draco’s voice was rich with dull, horrified fascination, as one who is examining the full extent of an unpleasant situation, like a tongue probing gently at the shattered remains of a tooth. 

“Yes.” He responded simply. He was interested in seeing exactly what the boy chose to do with the muggle. He wanted to be sure that Draco cursed her.. he hoped the boy would kill her at the conclusion of his amusement. If the boy refused..it would be disappointing..   
The sounds of the girl screaming for help at the warded and silenced door were irritating. They stopped a moment later and he glanced around to see the girl silenced and pressed against the door, held there by Draco’s body as he whispered something inaudibly at her. Her face seemed to crumple and then she was sobbing and trying to push him away ineffectually.   
A few seconds later, Draco pulled away and drew back, wand in hand. The girl, on whatever level, realised that he was holding some kind of weapon and started to plead with him silently, her lips moving in a manner that was clearly begging. Draco sneered and then flicked off a blue curse at her. 

A minor hex, Voldemort recognised. It caused the gall to twist and clench. It was quite painful but easily countered. 

The girl had collapsed immediately to the floor and was holding herself and writhing in pain.   
Draco looked pleased. Perhaps the silence and absence of blood made it easier for him, Voldemort mused. He watched as Draco cursed the girl several more times and took the opportunity to sample the thoughts passing through his mind. Disgust, frustration, rage, satisfaction... He was aroused at the idea of free reign over another being but irritated because the offering was a muggle – and therefore unfuckable according to the principles his father had instilled in him. It was preventing him from truly enjoying himself. 

Voldemort considered this. He could perhaps force Draco to fuck the creature.. but it would be counter-productive. The boy’s ideals were convenient. They prevented him from considering Hermione a suitable witch.   
He could understand them of course. He himself would not fuck a muggle. They were livestock and he, unlike many of his servants obviously, had no inclination to practice bestiality.   
Besides.. if he gave the boy a witch to fuck after this, he might enjoy a soothing bath later this night. He refused to bathe in muggle blood.

“Cruciate her” he instructed coolly. 

Draco, who had been quite immersed in his cursing looked up with hazy eyes and wide dilated pupils. “Huh..” he mumbled absently. Voldemort narrowed his eyes at him.   
The boy shook his head slightly and seemed to return to himself enough to realise his order. He turned back to the sobbing panting mess on the floor and raised his wand, pressing his lips together in determination. He had obviously cast the curse before.   
Delving slightly he watched a memory of the boy cursing house elves while his father critiqued his performance.   
Draco carried out the curse on the girl more than adequately.. although.. perhaps not as effectively as the mudblood had. The writhing struggles of the silenced girl were more desperate and mindless now. She clenched and overstretched in the oh so familiar patterns of agony. 

“Good..” he commended softly. 

Draco seemed to glow with pride as he dropped the curse and looked up at him expectantly. 

“Show me your imperius” he instructed him next. 

It was flawlessly carried out but a slightly shadow of fear crept onto the boy’s face as he made the girl dance from one end of the room to the other. He obviously knew what was coming up next and did not wish to demonstrate the final unforgiveable. 

“Come here Draco” he spoke softly. 

After a moment’s hesitation he was obeyed and the boy lowered himself to kneel beside the chair. 

“Have you ever successfully used the killing curse?” he enquired, as neutral an expression on his face as he could manage.   
After a moment there was a barely audible “No, my Lord. I..was..unable to cast it.”   
The blonde looked embarrassed. Voldemort reflected on this. Most witches and wizards were unable to cast the curse. It was magically very draining and required an intense focus and will. If the wizard was not absolutely certain in his purpose, it would not succeed.   
He nodded at Draco thoughtfully. “If you are able to use the curse on the muggle-“ Draco seemed to flinch and lowered his eyes. Voldemort continued unconcerned “-Then I shall give you a witch for the night of your very own. This would be an honour Draco. There are comparatively few witches and wizards in the dungeon stores, relative to muggles.. and I am certain that many of my death eaters would prefer one of them. ...Furthermore.. I shall give you an attractive witch.. “   
he paused for a moment and added, on general principle “or wizard, if you prefer.” 

Draco looked up at him with a surprised, mortified expression and half shook his head.

He smirked at him as he continued. “And all you must do to receive this gift is remove this revolting muggle creature from the world – something which you say you wish to do.” 

The boy’s expression was torn. “If I ..fail?..” he asked quietly. 

Voldemort sighed and let his head rest back on the high back of the chair. He could hardly punish the boy for something that most wizards failed at, when he was rewarding him tonight.   
“If you fail Draco.. you will return to the great hall. You may watch others enjoy themselves, but you will not have another chance to sate yourself tonight with a partner of your rather elevated preferences.”   
He summoned a house elf and ordered it to bring one of the witches set aside in the magical stocks. The little creature popped away and returned shortly gripping a brunette in a wrinkled and ripped Hogwarts uniform which displayed her as a Hufflepuff. He watched with delight as Draco’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. 

“That’s..that’s.. Amelia..something.. isn’t it?! She’s a seventh year. How did she end up here?!..” Draco continued to look the girl over with interest. 

Joining him in his appraisal, he considered that the girl was a decent specimen. At least physically. Mentally she was as thick as two short planks. As he recalled she was a half blood. She’d been in knockturn alley when one of his death eaters had noticed her. Apparently the little twit had failed to cast contraceptive charms before involving herself with some boy and, due to her own ineptitude in casting the associated charm to test for pregnancy, had become erroneously convinced that she was pregnant – which brought her to a rather seedy potions shop during school hours to look for an abortive potion.   
Her family were staunch supporters of Dumbledore, which thankfully, the young death eater Palver, who had seen her, had known. Her loss would be no great sacrifice to the wizarding world. 

“Cast the curse, Draco, and she is yours. However you wish to enjoy her.” 

The girl in question, who had been shaking and terrified at suddenly finding herself in a room with Lord Voldemort himself, seemed to recognise Draco suddenly and, finding some hidden store of entirely un-hufflepuffesque courage bit out “Draco Malfoy, you little worm! Should have guessed you’d be a death eater. You wait! One day you’re going to get the kiss for this!” 

Draco’s mien darkened sharply and he snarled back, sneering. “Shut your hole if you know what’s good for you Winthrop!... I’m going to fuck the shit out of you when I’m done with the other cunt and if you’re really lucky.. maybe I’ll hold off on cursing you till afterward.” 

The hufflepuff’s mouth snapped shut and fear overtook anger again as she wasn’t sure whether that was really going to happen in her immediate future. 

Draco turned back to Voldemort and the sharp determination that was now in the silvery gaze was most pleasing.   
“You know the spell, Draco” he prompted him and looked over to the strawberry blond standing in her placid imperioed cloud. 

Draco dropped both the silencing spell and the imperio and the girl dropped like a rock, screeching in pain.   
This seemed to affect the hufflepuff dramatically. The girl sprang back and retreated to the wall, her eyes flicking between the three others in the room as if unsure where to look. They kept being dragged back to the screaming girl. 

Draco approached the muggle slowly, his wand in hand. He seemed to be forcibly calming and centering himself. Then he raised his wand and with a harsh and final tone cried out the curse. “ AVADA KEDAVRA!”   
It was almost comical. The green flash spat from the end of his wand and struck the muggle, tossing her back on the floor with empty eyes. Draco himself took a half step back and raised his wand, looking at it with bemused excitement, as if he’d never seen it before. When he turned he was obviously jubilant and trying desperately to hide it.   
Voldemort imagined the boy would love to go and tell his father now that he had finally successfully cast the killing curse. He gifted him with a thin approving smile.   
Draco’s own smile widened and he nodded his head in acknowledgement. 

“Excellent, my servant. A most gratifying conclusion to this day. The witch is yours. Enjoy her. I shall return later.” 

There was a dismayed and despairing cry from the hufflepuff. Draco looked thoroughly delighted and turned a cruel smirk of anticipation on her. 

Satisfied with this, Voldemort rose from the chair and disapparated without further comment. He was looking forward to returning later in the night and seeing just what Draco Malfoy might like to do to a witch he had entirely in his power.

 

 

“Don’t come near me!”

Draco smirked. “Winthrop.. or maybe I’ll call you Amelia since we’re about to be much better acquainted.. You’re making a great case that all hufflepuffs are brainless bits of fluff - don’t you know where you are?! The Dark Lord gave you to me. You heard him yourself. Of course I’m going to come near you. I’m going to fuck you six ways from Sunday and a few more besides. You belong to me now. If you’re really good.. and I mean really good.. maybe you won’t die tonight. But I wouldn’t bet on it. I’m sure you’re not that good a shag. Take off your clothes.

The girl’s face, already tight with fear, whitened still further. She looked close to tears

“Look.. I’m.. I’m really really sorry if I’ve done anything..to ..to be here. I..don’t want anything to do with..with.. you know who or the other side. I’m not involved. Let me go.. I won’t tell anyone that you just.. that you.. the girl..”   
Her eyes slid helplessly to the dead muggle on the floor   
“I just want to go home!” she wailed pleadingly

Draco laughed and raised his wand  
“Tell someone who cares Amelia. You called me a worm! Take off your uniform or I’ll diffindo it off you. And get on your knees!”

The girl swallowed and slid down the wall till she was curled on the floor in a ball, her arms wrapped around her knees.

“Draco.. I..I didn’t mean what I said before.. about you.. I’ve always thought you were a bit...um... dashing.. Please.. stop! Please just.. just.. don’t”.   
Her face brightened with a sudden flash of what looked like hope  
“I’m pregnant!! Please!”

Draco, who had been stalking slowly closer, a predatorial smirk on his face, stopped and furrowed his brow in consternation.   
She wasn’t at all! The Dark Lord wouldn’t give him a pregnant witch!   
Although it was a matter of honour not to harm a pureblooded witch who was with child, Amelia Winthrop was a halfblood. Nevertheless it was wasteful to kill a pregnant witch, irrespective her blood status. His godfather had told him that when he was too young to understand what the man meant. He understood now though. Even if the child was entirely unwanted by the world, to kill it when the innocent blood might be utilised in potions, when the sightless little eyes, the tiny heart, the gonads might be harvested – was unforgivably wasteful.

Well.. if she was pregnant.. and his Lord had intended her to be killed...  
Was he supposed to rape and torture a pregnant witch?! He wasn’t certain that he wanted to.   
Admittedly.. the fact that it was so very wrong.. so forbidden..did kind of appeal, he thought tentatively. It was forbidden beyond law, forbidden even in the pureblood codes...

“You don’t look pregnant. How far along are you?!” he demanded sceptically.

“I don’t know.. a month?” the girl sputtered back.

“You don’t know?! How did you find out then?!”

She managed to convey that she had used some spell he hadn’t heard of. He frowned more deeply. This wasn’t good.   
“Who is the father then?!” he demanded in irritation

“Castor Briny. But.. but.. he doesn’t know!”

Draco’s expression darkened further. Briny was a seventh year Gryffindor. A pureblood. As far as Draco was informed, he was contracted to marry a Ravenclaw – Mary Mallows. A rather horse-faced girl.   
No doubt Briny’s parents would be less than overjoyed to learn that their son had impregnated another witch. Although.. the Winthrop family were tolerably well seen before Amelia’s father decided to take a muggle to his bed. Perhaps..  
Aargh. He chastised himself soundly. What was he thinking?! The Winthrop slag probably wasn’t going to be leaving this room. Who the kid belonged to was irrelevant. The only evidence he had of any pregnancy was what a terrified halfblood witch had told him.   
His mouth however didn’t seem to be listening to his brain  
“and.. you were going to raise it alone then?! Even with the shame you’d bring to your, admittedly already quite shameful, family? Or were you going to try to dissolve Briny’s marriage contract?!”

The girl gasped and looked down guiltily.

He narrowed his eyes, trying to pinpoint just what her guilt was from.

“Answer the question!” he fairly near yelled.

Amelia did start crying then   
“N-no..” she mumbled.

“No WHAT?!” 

“No.. I.. I wasn’t going to keep it.” She whispered.

Draco laughed out loud now.   
“You want me to let you go.. because you’re pregnant.. and you want to kill it?! Merlin’s wrinkled nutsack, you’re even thicker than I thought! Well in light of the fact that you don’t care that you’re carrying, Amelia, I don’t care either. Get your fucking kit off now or I’ll start throwing curses. I’ll start with the cruciatus. You don’t want to know what it’s going to be like to fuck after you’ve been crucioed!”

The girl gave a little shriek and buried her head in her arms again.

Draco.. who, now that he’d said it, was quite interested in seeing just what it was like to fuck someone who’d been cruciated, cast the curse promptly and watched with deep and abiding satisfaction as the hufflepuff screeched and flailed, squirming across the floor trying to escape the agony. 

When he dropped the curse and repeated his order, Amelia Winthrop pulled shaking arms to her throat and started to unfasten her robes as quickly as she could. It wasn’t very quick, considering that she couldn’t really grip the fastenings properly. He allowed her to struggle her way through it, flicking stinging curses at her every now and then as a small hurry-up.   
Eventually Amelia was on her knees, mostly stable and entirely naked. 

She had a reasonable body, he mused. Why did it always seem that the dirty blooded ones had the tastiest figures, the cutest faces?! It was wrong!..   
Centuries of breeding between the very best of wizarding families and you ended up with pugface Parkinson, as he knew half the school called her, you got Celestina Goyle, Gregs older sister – whose face could sour milk at fifty paces.. Tabitha Prendergast bore blood from all twelve of the oldest families and the result of her fine stock was seen in the arsenal of beauty spells she erected to cover her large teeth, her absence of a chin, her flapping ears, flyaway hair.. nonexistent breasts..   
His mother’s family.. well.. they were quite attractive, the blacks, but not the most stable of minds. Even the Malfoys – Draco knew for a fact that his father had once had a sister who had been killed in childhood because she was deformed. 

And then you had Amelia Winthrop.. who was quite pretty, despite the infection of muggle blood she carried. She was as thick as three short planks but that wasn’t the rule either. Katie Conolly and Renata Frunk were in Ravenclaw and they were very pretty. A traitorous little corner of his mind reminded him that Harry Potter had a mudblood mother.. although it denied vehemently that this memory cropping up right now was because Potter was in any way...pretty.   
Of course there was Granger too...  
...His Lord had said something about Granger. Said Draco himself had done something.. and been obliviated of the memory. He’d tried to... to what?! Rape her?! Was that even possible with a mudblood?! They were designed to serve wizards. It was their entire purpose according to everything he’d been taught.   
He did grasp that Granger apparently belonged to the Dark Lord – although he didn’t get why?! Why would the Dark Lord touch a mudblood?! Why would he teach her?! He’d shown not only mercy earlier but affection too. It was insane!   
Draco was still trying to banish the information from his mind that his godfather and the Dark Lord had, it seemed, fucked, at some point.   
To think of the scaly flat faced man with Granger, now... That was.. that was something else entirely.

Perversely, he felt himself harden at the thought of frizzy, know-it-all, mudblood, Granger being raped and tortured by the Dark Lord.

He let his eyes drift down the hufflepuff’s body, taking in the slender legs, the rounded hips, narrow belly, heavy breasts. Her body was not really like Granger’s, he decided. Not that he’d ever really looked too closely at the mudblood’s figure. Why would he?!   
And a halfblood was better than a mudblood anyway. A worthier prize. 

“You know, Winthrop.. I’d do you the honour of allowing you to suck my cock.. but I think you’re just retarded enough to imagine you could bite me and somehow escape, even though the room is warded tighter than gringotts. So on that note – on your feet! Get your arse over to the bed! I’ve no intention of bruising my knees on a flagstone floor just to drill your worthless halfblood hole.”

He watched as the information filtered through the cotton wool that filled the brunette’s head till it reached the three or four functioning braincells. Amelia looked terrified, hurt and desperate at once.

“Please.. please Draco.. Don’t-“

He turned his wand on her again, using a hex that was a darker version of the incarcerous. However it did not restrain the body, it merely captured and bound the breasts, constricting them at their base and forming tight fleshy balloons from the extremity.   
Amelia screeched as the painful spell tightened still further at Draco’s will. 

It was a spell that had immediately captured his imagination when he’d read it but which he had never had any opportunity to use.   
Another brief flick transfigured a rope extending from the girl’s bindings, which he then summoned.   
Now it was very easy to tug her, wailing, to her feet and lead her across the room to the large bed. He noted with satisfaction that her unnaturally balled breasts were already darkening with blood, her nipples an angry red. He sent a stinging hex to one in the spirit of experimentation and the scream Amelia emitted was high and urgent with pain. 

Pulling her up short at the foot of the bed with a sharp tug on the rope elicited another shriek, and he moved closer to her, till the soft silky fabric of his robe brushed the girl’s tight purpling mounds. She was shaking and crying silently with gaspy breaths as he looked down on her with interest.   
He sneered. He hadn’t even really begun. If she was this upset now, she’d be destroyed when he really started to experiment with some of the things he’d read. 

He captured her attention expediently by sliding his fingers up her abdomen to the tight coils of rope that he knew would permanently destroy the witch’s breasts if he left them on all night – and he had every intention of doing so, purely in order to destroy her breasts, which had been far too pretty for such a filthy creature.   
To think that she had soiled another pureblood line by seducing Castor Briny. The creature in her womb was an abomination!

He slid his fingertips over the rings of rope.. one..two.. three..four.. and then over the hot tight flesh of her pained breast. 

“You know.. if you’re unhappy with the pain you’re feeling in these, I could cut them off..” he said, pretending to consider it.   
He was pretending because he’d realised earlier, quite soon after the Lestrange brothers went to work on the little muggle girl, that he didn’t really like the sight of blood. It made him feel funny. Sort of hot and sick at the same time. He wouldn’t be cutting Amelia’s breasts off.   
Of course she couldn’t know that and from the way her sounds shut off abruptly, and did not start up again even when he gave her breast a hard squeeze, she really believed he would cut them off if she showed she was unhappy with the pain they were in. He sneered and lowered his head, mauling her nipple with his teeth. He could see her fighting not to scream in pain, biting her lips and turning red with the effort.

“Very good. You’re beginning to get it. I think I might even reward you for being so good. Get on your hands and knees on the bed.”

The girl hurried to obey, moving with barely a whimper to kneel in the centre of the bed. It was obvious what she was expecting. Draco felt his lip turn up in disgust. She was an easy slag. It was in her posture as she lowered her shoulders somewhat and raised her arse. It was in how far she’d parted her legs. Merlin only knew how often she’d assumed this position.   
He hated using things that others used.   
Who knew whether Brinys repulsive Gryffindor seed still lined her passages. 

He glanced about the room and summoned a few random objects, transfiguring them into what he decided he needed in order to enjoy her without too much underlying disgust or anxiety. When he was finished he had a tube, a large anal plug, a toilet brush and a bucket.   
After some consideration he transfigured the toilet brush to a smaller size and made the bristles somewhat softer. He didn’t want her to bleed. If he had to get her filthy blood on his cock, it would ruin the experience completely.

“I don’t want you to move. If you move, I’ll punish you. Understand?” he said distractedly, trying to remember the citronella spell. He did not clean things often, beyond a simple scourgify. He certainly didn’t clean floors, but the spell seemed fitting. She was a dirty creature fit to be under the heel of his boot..much like a floor.   
He stepped closer and cast a scourgify first upon Amelia’s arse and then upon her vagina. That being done he felt safe enough to insert the absolute bare minimum of the tip of his wand into her rosette to cast a much deeper scourgify. The way the girl twitched and whimpered suggested to him that it was an unpleasant feeling. He wondered idly how painful the internal application of citronella would be, while he scourgified the inside of her cunt in the same manner. That being done he ordered Amelia to place her forehead on the bedcovers.   
She did so at once, expecting that he was finished with the cleaning.

He reached for the hose he’d transfigured and with little care, pressed it forcibly through the tight ring of her sphincter.  
Now she seemed to become unsettled again. She tried to get up and turn around to see what he was doing. He ordered her back down and told her that if she moved again she’d regret it.   
She returned her forehead to the covers and he could see her entire body shaking.

Pressing his wand to the end of the clear hose, he raised it high and cast aquamenti. The water gushed down the hose and into Amelia. He watched it flow through the tube. It was relaxing somehow. He let it run for a couple of minutes before he decided it was enough. The brunette was making little whimpering noises and squirming. 

“You’re going to hold it. If you dirty anything here, i’ll make you lap it up, so suck it in, Amelia.”

He pulled the tube out carefully and, to the girl’s credit, only the tiniest dribble ran out of her wrinkled pink rosette.   
Reaching for the butt plug, he cast a waterproof lubricating charm, positioned it at the entrance of her arse and then, without warning, rammed it home. 

It made a squelch sound that was very nearly a slosh. Amelia squealed again in pain but didn’t move. Draco could see that her hands were fisted in the bedcovers tightly. 

“It hurts.. please...stop. Why are you doing this?! What did I ever do to you?!”

Draco ignored the question and responded simply “You deserve this and much more besides. You’re not only a filthy blooded waste of space, and a brainless one at that, but you’re polluting another pureblood line too now. Although.. maybe.. if I fuck you hard enough you’ll lose it. I’m sure Briny and his family would thank me.

He heard her crying and smiled as he filled the bucket with cold water. He had a feeling that she’d buck about and fight when he cast the citronella charm on the liquid inside her. Provisionally he cast a spell to immobilise her against independent movement. Her sounds were more muffled now as even breathing became an effort. 

When he inserted the modified toilet brush into her snatch and began to scrub her with citronella water, she managed to scream even under the charm. Her body twitched. He interpreted that to mean that the pain must be very great. Smirking he fucked her with the brush a bit harder before casting the citronella charm on the liquid trapped inside her.   
At that she actually writhed, falling down and bucking aimlessly. It looked a little like she was desperate to be fucked although he knew she was really only desperate to get the painful douche out. When she started to plead mindlessly, scratching at the covers, he decided it was enough and scourgified front and back again.   
There was a pleasant lemony scent. It reminded him of the ballroom somehow.  
He placed the scent – it was the way the ballroom smelled after the elves had cleaned it in preparation for a ball.

He liked that. She was a facility being made ready for use. An object. 

Reaching out he ran his hand over her arse with the large heavy buttplug in it. He wanted to leave it in.. he wanted to stretch her wide.. break her open.. but it would really defeat the purpose. She’d be wide and loose and he hated that. He yanked it out roughly and scourgified it again unnecessarily, before tossing it to the side. 

Climbing up behind her panting sobbing form, he positioned his cock at the entrance to her cunt and, without ceremony, slammed home.  
Her scream was an encouragement. He had the feeling that he was making an impression on her.

 

 

 

It hurt.. it hurt almost more than the cruciatus when it was being cast. No.. that wasn’t quite right.. there was hardly anything that compared to the searing pain of the cruciatus – it went beyond everything.. but this was just as bad in a different way.   
Everything ached.. god... the pain was different. Slow..straining..miserable.. maddening.   
She had tried to just tolerate it.. she’d thought.. if she could sleep – but she couldn’t sleep. It was impossible. And the pain was so bad now. Everything hurt and partially petrified as she was, she couldn’t even move her body and stretch or rub or try to relieve the agony somehow.   
And he wasn’t here. She was alone in the big bed in the near dark and everyone else was away celebrating..   
It wasn’t fair!! Her idea to get Dolohov out of the ministry had worked and this was her reward. 

She was feeling quite a lot of self pity, snivelling messily in the candlelight because it hurt so much and nobody cared. She couldn’t even wipe her tears out of her eyes or blow her nose. Soon she’d have to call a house elf to blow it for her and the thought of that just made EVERYTHING worse.

There was a soft crack followed by another a second later.   
She tried to lift her head enough to see who had come in but all she could see was a blurry rainbow refraction of two figures through her tears.

A tsk sound informed her who the first figure was – and although she had not really thought that anyone could apparate into his bedchambers without his knowledge, it was still a relief to know that Tom was here and not some other death eater.   
Bellatrix for instance.

“There, there, my dear” his familiar voice soothed without much true sympathy. A moment later her snot and tears were scourgified away. For that she was relieved.   
On the other hand, now she could see that the other man behind him was Rodolphus.   
And he looked delighted at how completely miserable she was.

She managed with difficulty to resist the temptation to order him to hop on one leg and cluck like a chicken. Horrible man.

“It hurts..” she whined, knowing that there was absolutely no use in doing so – it wouldn’t stop the pain and it wouldn’t win her any points with either man. Nevertheless she couldn’t help it. It did hurt and she wanted it to stop.

“Yes. The after effects of an extended application of the Cruciatus can be rather tedious” Tom agreed, gliding closer. “Not that I have ever experienced them.. but I have observed others break their own bones.. tear their flesh open.. And you have not yet reached the itching stage.”

Hermione’s mouth formed an O of horror.   
“But... there has to be a way to make it stop! There must be.. Can’t you just..stun me.. or something.. “ She tried not to sound so desperate.. but she really felt that way. 

Rodolphus smirked.

“No, Hermione.” Tom said decisively “The sensations would wake you even if I were to sedate you with a potion and the cruciatus is one of the spells I mentioned which reacts violently to Arbus’s transfer. You will endure it. Severus and even Draco have done so on countless occasions. Now do stop complaining. Obviously we have taken time out of a rather entertaining evening to visit you in your plight.”

She felt her bottom lip tremble as she tried to ignore the intolerable ache all over.   
“Thank you, my Lord” she whispered.  
He smiled, satisfied with her use of his honorific, and moved to seat himself on the side of the bed beside her. She looked up at him unhappily as he brushed her curls to the side gently.  
“I believe you have been on Rodolphus’ mind all evening” he said suddenly, incongruently.   
She had the feeling that she was missing some kind of nasty joke as Rodolphus smiled, flashing white teeth in a way that reminded her of a wolf. She didn’t know how to respond and bit her lip uneasily.

Tom offered an abbreviated smile and then added “We will not remain much longer. I merely wished to ensure you were progressing toler-”

She interrupted urgently “Please don’t leave me alone!! It’s worse when there’s no one here.”

The smooth flat face shifted slightly and she recognised his expression of mild irritation. She was being weak apparently. He disliked that.   
“Do not be so presumptuous. I have other things to attend to this evening” he snapped.   
She felt her eyes fill again and blinked rapidly, trying to suppress the tears before they could spill.

“I would be prepared to remain and distract the girl my Lord”

Her eyes flew to the brown haired soldier in dismay and then back to Tom, pleading. ‘No, no. Not him. I can’t move. I can’t defend myself. Don’t let him stay here!’ she thought desperately.

Tom chuckled, seemingly amused and half turned, looking up at Rodolphus over his shoulder.   
“I have no doubt of that, my servant. However it appears Hermione would prefer you did not.. and I am inclined to support her judgement on the matter.”

Rodolphus frowned slightly. “Well I can’t harm her. Whatever spell she used saw to that. I had thought to tell her stories. She seemed to enjoy that the last time we spoke.”

Hermione wavered momentarily. She wanted to hear about the rest of his initiation.  
But then.. The older Lestrange brother was not at all stupid. He’d find some way to do something nasty without violating the orders she’d given.. Would a silencing spell count as harm? She wouldn’t be able to order him to do or stop doing anything else then. It would be better if he didn’t stay.

Tom seemed undecided. He looked up at Rodolphus speculatively. The wizard in question glanced at Hermione and tilted his head as if appraising her.

“I did agree to answer her questions when we last spoke.. as I recall. 

When he mentioned agreeing Hermione could have almost groaned out loud. She had forgotten that she’d also made a promise.   
Well.. maybe she’d agreed to ask Tom whether she would be allowed to tell Rodolphus what he wanted to know – which seemed to be mostly why she had betrayed her ‘friends’ – but that didn’t mean she had to do it RIGHT NOW. God. She was already in agony – who needed to add emotional turmoil, guilt and shame to that?!

It was true that she’d made the decision to come here.. made the decision to walk away from all of her friends and acquaintances – and at the time she’d had no idea that Harry fancied her.. she hadn’t known that Dumbledore was a psychopathic bastard. (She’d just thought him to be a manipulative, odd, old Wizard.) – She had simply been bored as all hell, tired of thanklessly working hard for everyone else and ridiculously in love with the idea of Tom Riddle. And ok.. with Lord Voldemort Too.. maybe a little. Although that was more..awe, than anything else.  
She had felt guilty when she was thinking about leaving. Ashamed with herself for her thoughts.. her insane desire for someone so utterly and completely wrong. Someone who would probably as soon kill her as look at her. Terrified and overwhelmed by the magnitude of what she was doing, she had nonetheless methodically gone about her preparations to steal the sword.  
She really didn’t want to rake all those emotions up again.   
That was a big factor in insisting that she wouldn’t tell Lestrange anything without permission from Tom. The rest of what she refused to tell him had simply been common sense and self preservation. Rodolphus was intensely disturbed by the thought that his master might be willing to touch someone as impure as she was. It was better just to avoid him knowing that.

It seemed it was a bit too late for that now though. He was not flipping out over her lying in Tom’s bed.. in his chambers.. Tom had obviously spoken with him already. 

She had promised.  
She’d said she would ask Tom as soon as she could.. that she’d honestly try to persuade him to let her tell Rodolphus.

Damn.

 

 

Someone called his name.   
He groaned and turned his head away.   
”Harry – wake up!” a familiar voice demanded anxiously. He turned away even more although.. there was something..familiar.. something that said to his mind that he should wake up now. Something was unexpected or wrong and it needed to be investigated.   
But his head felt heavy and he had a feeling that he really didn’t want to wake up right now. At the moment he was in the pleasant state of half awareness where the time, the day of the week and the events of the previous night were all distant and fuzzy.

“G’way” he grumbled and tried to put his head under his pillow. 

“Harry! You’ve been sleeping for hours! You have to wake up now! Please! You’re worrying me!”

“Mione?” he mumbled, confused.   
There was some reason why Hermione shouldn’t be in his room. He tried to remember what it was. The hazy dreamy feeling of being half asleep wasn’t lifting, even though he was more awake now. He had the feeling that the thought was just on the tip of his tongue, metaphorically speaking. 

“I’m awake” he said more clearly into his pillow before turning over in bed and squinting in the direction of the voice. 

The diffuse form of Hermione sat on Ron’s bed. The rest of the room seemed empty, if fuzzy to his naked eyes. He reached for his glasses feeling an incongruous sense of wrongness mixed with a pang of hope. 

“Ok..” he slid his glasses on, and Hermione snapped into focus. She looked worried. Maybe there was something wrong with him?! His heart ached to see her concern. “What’s up, Mione?” He frowned slightly at the disconnected sense of something he had forgotten. 

“Oh Harry!” she gushed “I’m so glad you’re ok! How are you feeling!? The ferret really pulled a number on you!”

He blinked.. Again a sense of oddness flowed over him. “I’m.. fine, Mione. Why? Shouldn’t I be?! What did Draco do?!”

“Draco?!!”   
Hermione’s face contorted into an incredulous gape.  
“Why in Merlin’s name are you calling him that?!” 

Harry wondered that himself. It had just popped out. He did wonder however why Hermione was calling Malfoy ‘ferret’ when she’d always scolded them for the childish insult, saying that two wrongs never made a right.  
Perhaps she’d changed her mind after whatever Draco had apparently done to him. He couldn’t for the life of him imagine what that might be though.

“What’s happened?” he asked, ignoring her question and looking around with sudden realisation at where he was. If something had happened, surely he’d be in the infirmary and not his room in Gryffindor tower.

“That horrible little stain threw something into your cauldron in potions and it exploded. Professor Dumbledore said there might be some ..cog.. coggit ..he said you might have some memory problems.”

Harry blinked again in disbelief. Insulting Malfoy aside – he was almost positive that the word that Hermione had just stumbled over was ‘cognitive’ – and there was no way in hell that Mione would ever have difficulty understanding or saying that word. She’d used it at least two dozen times in first year when she had gone through that neurology phase.  
Ok...  
So.. either something pretty dramatic had happened to cause Hermione cognitive impairment too..   
or... or this wasn’t Mione.

“Malfoy! That arse!” he spat venomously. “Were you there? Did you see him do it? Oh god! It didn’t get you too, did it?!”

Hermione looked relieved.  
He took in the way a brief sly confident expression flickered through her eyes for a second before it was replaced with wide eyed earnestness – a more typical Hermione expression.  
“Yes.. I was there and I saw him but it was too late. Luckily I could duck under the bench. I didn’t get any of the potion on me.”

Harry nodded “I’m so glad you weren’t hurt, Mione” he said quietly.  
Who was this?! Were they using polyjuice? If so then he just had to keep them talking for an hour and he’d find out just who he was dealing with here.

Why couldn’t he remember anything about.. well.. about anything.. He was having trouble calling up memories. He had the vague sense that they were there, just like he knew that Mione was more than familiar with the word cognitive.. but he couldn’t remember specific occasions.   
He couldn’t remember anything happening in potions class.. although there was the vague feeling that potions..or..Snape..was upsetting... more upsetting than normal! Maybe something had happened... but he didn’t think it was what this fake Hermione had said had happened.   
Although.. there was a strange..importance.. to the idea of Draco Malfoy. Something might have happened with him..  
It was no good though.. he couldn’t remember anything specific. 

“Harry...”   
The tone of the fake Hermione’s voice got his hackles up. It was familiar.. not Hermione but he knew this person well.   
“I ..know its not a good time to bring this up but i’ve been wanting to get your advice for a while and ..well.. we hardly have any time alone together. Maybe I could..ask you now?”

He managed to maintain a curious open expression. This wasn’t Hermione.. There was no reason to feel the stab of fear that he did.

“Its... about Ron.” The familiar face scrunched into an indecisive fretful expression.   
Harry’s heart, against all advice from his brain, started to thump faster. “yeah?” he heard himself ask lightly.

“Well... it’s just.. Ron and I have been ...talking... and..well..” Hermione’s soft amber eyes scanned his own with a slightly embarrassed light in them.  
“Um.. We’ve decided we’re more than just friends. Harry.. Ron asked me to go out with him and.. I said yes.”

There.   
wow.  
It felt almost exactly like someone had stabbed an iron spike through his heart a moment before punching him in the gut.

He didn’t tell whoever this was that he was happy for them both. He just smiled a frozen smile and waited. She’d said she wanted his advice. So far everything had been telling him and not asking him.

“I ..just wanted your advice. You’re a boy. Do you think Ron will still respect me if we have sex? Because.. I really want to...with him.”

Harry felt sick.   
He wanted to say “What?!”   
really... he wanted to say “What the fuck?!”

Instead he stared at her for a moment and then answered “I don’t know. Ron and I haven’t really talked about things like that.”

Fake-Hermione was undeterred. She babbled on again abruptly. “You know.. I think it’s always been Ron for me. He’s so strong and he’s always there when I need him.”

Harry smothered the snort that wanted to burst from him.   
There would be no point in arguing with the girl who clearly wasn’t Hermione. He tried to tell himself over and over to let it go, but the urge was almost overwhelming to point out that Ron had never been there for Hermione and was an utter git to her most of the time. Not to mention that Hermione would never select a partner based upon the fact that they were physically strong and dependable.

Something shifted in his mind for a second. He had a flash of Hermione straining toward him, yelling, being physically restrained by Voldemort. The image was gone in a heartbeat but it left a disquiet in its wake. Was Hermione gone? Had something happened to her?!   
It felt almost right.  
Something bad had happened to Hermione. 

He was still puzzling over it when the fake Hermione announced out of the blue that she had to go because she wanted to go and look up something in the library. He waved vaguely and the unfamiliar familiar girl virtually skipped out of the room.   
He made a mental note that whoever it was imitating Hermione, although he was still sure he knew them, clearly didn’t know Mione very well.

He took stock of his circumstances.   
Something was wrong with his memory. Hermione was not herself. Literally. There were vague worrying feelings associated with all the things that generally worried him before – potions, Snape, Malfoy – except those worried feelings were different than he remembered them being.   
Almost as if he was worried for them, not worried what they might do to him.   
And that faint impression of Voldemort holding Mione.. where the hell had that come from?

He tried to think about it but it was all vague and diffuse now.   
Damn it. Something was really wrong with his mind! He needed to do something! He needed to tell Dumbledore.

OH! Damn!   
The feeling of unease spiked into wild directionless fear. 

At the thought of Dumbledore?!!

Maybe Malfoy had poisoned him with a potion somehow.

Drawing back the covers he was disturbed to find himself wearing boxer shorts.   
Someone else had put him to bed.  
If it was Madam Pomfrey, surely he’d be in the Infirmary now.   
He couldn’t think of a single other person he wouldn’t be creeped out to know had put him to bed. 

As he swung his legs over the side of the bed, something else caught his eye. A red glint in his peripheral vision. He raised a hand to his collarbone to find a necklace around his neck.   
Well.. that was bizarre. Why would he be wearing what seemed, from the imperfect angle he could catch a glimpse of it, to be a fairly girly pendant. He wrapped a hand around it, feeling a strange tension.  
His other hand reached up to the back of his neck looking for the clasp.

Two things became apparent. Firstly – the chain of the necklace wasn’t a chain at all.. it seemed to be two chains, whereby one wrapped around the other tightly, as if soldered on. Secondly – there was no clasp at all on the chains and they were too tight to pull the whole thing over his head.

Disturbed, he got up and walked to the bathroom, peering at himself in the mirror. The necklace hung in the depression of his collarbone.  
He had the feeling that he knew it. But the familiar feeling was mixed with a sense of discomfort and worry. He didn’t want to be wearing it. Returning to the other room for his wand he tried a severing spell, carefully angled away from his skin. 

“Harry?”  
Voldemort’s voice suddenly rang out in his mind. He jumped and almost dropped his wand. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.. This had never happened before. Not like this. He’d had visions.. dreams.. but the bastard had never actually spoken in his mind. How was he doing this?!

“Your mind is too chaotic. Calm yourself at once and enunciate clearly. What has happened? Why are you panicking?”

Harry felt his own jaw drop. Voldemort wasn’t in his mind taunting and threatening. He seemed to be actually trying to communicate.. What the hell?!

‘How are you doing this?!’ He thought as concentratedly as he could.

“What do you mean, how am I doing this?! You already know...”   
The voice stilled as if in thought and then spoke again.  
“Have you consumed any potions recently?! Have you eaten or drunk anything at all.. or perhaps used a lotion.. or bathed?”

This was bizarre.   
Harry tried to process the fact that Voldemort seemed to be concerned about his welfare somehow. There was probably a horrible reason for it. Perhaps snakeface was responsible for the way he couldn’t quite remember anything clearly right now. It didn’t seem to make sense that he would be speaking this matter of factly if he were, but still – who else could have done it?! Unless..it really was Mione..and Draco really had done something in potions class to make his cauldron explode.  
But that wasn’t Mione. Mione would never ask his opinion on whether it was too soon to sleep with Ron. Mione would never sleep with Ron. She wouldn’t fancy someone like him at all. So it was probably Voldemort that had done this. He would rather believe that snakeface had done something evil again than that Mione not only wasn’t interested in him but preferred Ron.

“No. I just woke up. What have you done to me?!”

He felt more than heard the sneer in the maniac’s tone.

“I am not responsible for your present confusion, boy. I have been...otherwise occupied...since we met in the forbidden forest – and you were in perfect health when I apparated away. You were likely dosed with some form of mind altering potion. Tell me what has occurred there since yesterday evening.”

Harry considered refusing.. The idea of telling Voldemort anything at all voluntarily grated against him. It was so wrong. He might be sharing important information with the enemy. Nevertheless.. it didn’t feel like the wrong thing to do right now. He felt, in fact, as if he wanted to ask for help – insane as that seemed.

“I..don’t know anything about yesterday.. or anything else. I can’t remember anything clearly.   
I know some things.. but everything recent is just..fog. I don’t know what happened.   
I woke up and Mione told me that Draco.. er.. that is.. Draco Malfoy had put something in my cauldron in potions.. I’d had some kind of potions accident.”

“Mione is Hermione Granger?”

“yes. But.. She was acting really weird.. I’m not sure if it was actually her”

“It was not. Hermione Granger is here.”

A mix of confusing emotions assaulted him. Recognition was stronger than surprise and he was astounded to realise that he was more relieved than horrified. It made no sense. 

“Why is she there? How long has she been there? Please don’t hurt her!”

There was a slightly longer delay and he cursed himself for making it so obvious that he’d do anything to protect Mione.

“She came to me of her own accord initially. She has not been here long.   
You are presently unable to leave Hogwarts grounds, thanks to the spells upon the necklace you are wearing. There is therefore no point in my holding Hermione’s welfare over your head to bring you to me.   
As for hurting the witch... It appears Hermione enjoys a little pain under the right circumstances...”

Black fury welled up in him. It was one thing to think of Voldemort hurting Hermione.. he hated the idea of it – he’d do anything to protect her. But it was another thing entirely to imagine her....having.. that is... to consider the circumstances that the snake might be implying she enjoyed pain during. God.. no. it was awful.

He had a sudden flash of voldemort on top of a naked and crying Hermione in the chamber of secrets, smiling nastily as he pounded into her.  
The image was gone a fraction of a second after it appeared. He was left gasping and shaken.

But that didn’t happen! He was sure it hadn’t!   
Voldemort had said mind altering potions. Had he perhaps forgotten it?! He thought he might actually hyperventilate! The thought of Voldemort doing that to Hermione was physically painful.

What are you panicking about now, boy?!

Did you sleep with Mione in the chamber of secrets?!   
He hoped that the snakefaced bastard didn’t hear.. or sense.. or whatever..exactly how much that thought bothered him.

Yes. 

The voice sounded smug. Harry thought he might literally burst a vein in his head in furious frustration. He had to get out of here. He had to kill him! He couldn’t even begin to fit the idea of voldemort raping Hermione into his mind. He had to kill him. Dumbledore would never let him rush off to kill him now though. He hadn’t even trained him   
Or at least.. Harry was reasonably confident that training hadn’t happened. He still felt nervous and fumbling at the thought of fighting. Surely that wouldn’t be the case if someone had trained him.

Do you know.. I believe you are even more amusing to toy with in this state than you were in your dreams. Although the dream to which you are referring was particularly delicious. As I recall, you enjoyed yourself also, even if you were not permitted to participate. And do you know, when I informed Hermione of what I had done, she was aroused by the thought...

A dream?! A fucking DREAM?! She was not! I don’t believe she’d ever touch you willingly. She hates you. We’ve talked about you so often and she hates you even more than I do – and that’s saying something. If she’s there then it’s because you had someone, probably Malfoy, abduct her. Leave her alone or ..

Harry couldn’t think of anything to threaten the bastard with. He was already going to kill him and they both knew it. There was nothing he could really do from here.

Or?   
We both know that you will never defeat me, Harry. Even Hermione knew that.. why do you imagine she came, seeking to join me.   
I have sent you so many memories of her. I do hope whatever potion Albus has used upon you wears off. It would be such a waste of effort if you should never remember what you have learned.

You’re a liar, Voldemort! I can’t trust anything you tell me! I remember that I saw you take Hermione! She was struggling to get away and you were holding her. She reached out her hand toward me! You won’t convince me to give up. I’m going to kill you! You’d better not hurt her!

There was a pause for a moment and then laughter echoed through his head. 

That is a very recent memory, Harry. Early last night you sought to run from Hogwarts. You were with Draco. And by with... I do mean in the most intimate sense.. He ran with you.   
When he discovered that the necklace with which the headmaster has collared you would not allow you to pass the wards he contacted me.   
I...foolishly in that instance... brought Hermione with me. She had been of much use to me in another matter previously.   
When she saw your situation however, she begged to be allowed to go and help you remove the necklace.   
I did not allow it.   
I refused for the simple reasons that she would be unlikely to defeat Albus’ spells, while he would almost certainly close the wards the moment she was within school grounds, preventing her from leaving again. Emotional Gryffindor that she is, she did not think before rushing to act and I was obliged to restrain her.   
THAT is what you recall.

Harry wanted to deny it. He wanted to say how ridiculous the thought of Hermione helping voldemort was.. but unfortunately the explanation that the voice in his mind had provided actually felt right. It felt like it fit with the pieces he couldn’t quite access in his mind.  
There were a few things that he knew couldn’t be right though.

I was..with...Draco?! What do you mean?! I’m not... that way. I’ve never been. And i’d never do that with Malfoy if I was. He’s an utter git!

There was another soft laugh.

You don’t even believe that yourself.   
Well.. perhaps the part about what a ‘git’ the boy is. He is sometimes quite tedious.. however this evening he killed for the first time on command. I am rather pleased with him at present.  
No.. I assure you – you were quite..enamoured of Draco, according to the memories I extracted from him.   
You even sought to protect him from Dumbledore. Twice, no less.

Harry tried to tell himself that it wasn’t true. He was afraid that it might be.   
Right now he wasn’t sure what to believe. Either Voldemort was fucking with his mind or everything he’d believed had somehow been turned upside down.

My attention is required elsewhere, Harry, therefore if you have no ideas about what has happened to you, I advise you to pretend to believe whatever you are told and to observe your surroundings carefully. You can summon my awareness by gripping the pendant, however do not bother me unless you are in danger or have something important to say. If you deliberately provoke my wrath, I will take it out on those I can reach, you understand...

Harry understood.

There was no feeling of lightness in his head when Voldemort left. He didn’t feel anything and only realised that the bastard had gone because he didn’t respond when Harry asked several times whether he was there.

Great. Just great. What was he supposed to do now?   
How was he supposed to know what was true? Who to trust?!

Grudgingly, he recognised that all he could do was what Voldemort had advised. Until he had some idea of what was going on, he could do nothing more than agree with everyone and try to catch them out in a lie.  
And that included Voldemort himself.

Surely he must have been lying.   
Mione wouldn’t betray him.. She’d never go to snakeface. Never. The logical result would be that he would kill her – and Mione was always logical.

He would consider that one a de facto probable lie.

Perhaps Ron and Ginny might be able to help, he wondered.


	23. Chapter 23

Severus blinked. He was in the dark..   
Well.. near dark. His eyes made out the thin lines of a door. Where was he?   
The scent was very particular. He recognised it well.   
He was in the dungeons somewhere..   
Feeling around his body with cautious fingertips, the floor was stone and dry, if cool.   
A cell perhaps? The store room? Had he passed out somehow? There were no fumes that he could detect.

He surreptitiously pressed his arm against his body.   
His wand was not in its sleeve sheath.. 

A cell then. He was in a cell and unarmed. Why?!

What had happened?! 

Inexplicably, he recalled holding Hermione Granger restrained in the forest outside Hogwarts wards. The girl was struggling and fighting. She wanted to reach.. What?

Green eyes floated up in his memory. 

He flinched as a sudden flash of the boy who lived assaulted his mind. Too much exposed skin, slender legs akimbo, laying upon Severus own bed, his head tossed back in ecstasy as his hands fisted the sheets.

How?!   
How did he remember something so... so...  
(delicious, the dark voice in the back of his mind offered)  
Perverse. Inappropriate. Criminal.. forbidden.. IMPOSSIBLE!!

Had it actually happened? His master was ..well.. a master in infecting one’s mind with revolting images.  
(The nasty little voice inside him protested against the term ‘revolting’ being used in any conjunction with the writhing green eyed teenager)

It was no doubt a seeded thought. Not his own. His master must have discovered his duplicity and, in some humour, thought it amusing to infect his mind with depraved thoughts of the boy he had sought to protect.  
It didn’t feel quite right.   
He ignored the feeling.

Hermione then.. What of that? He was in the forbidden forest. He had.. what.. apparated there? Had he come from within? No.. he had been summoned. He had not been within. Why was he restraining Hermione Granger? She was struggling.. reaching for.. for ..  
Green eyes again.   
Reaching toward Potter. He had been preventing her from reaching him. Why?! 

A vague memory of Draco. His godson was there?  
And his Lord. The Dark Lord.. standing.. at the wards of Hogwarts, undefended. 

What had happened?

He struggled to remember what had happened next but there was simply nothing.. had he been struck by a spell? What had happened to Hermione.. that is.. Miss Granger?! It felt quite strangely natural to think of her given name. As if they were on familiar terms. And Draco? That he should be there was odd. Had Draco perhaps abducted Miss Granger? 

Tentatively he leaned toward a suspicion that something of that nature had occurred. Hermione had been abducted, hadn’t she? He could not quite recall it but he had the sense that there had been some degree of fuss over it..  
He cursed himself for again thinking of Miss Granger in such inappropriately familiar terms. The girl was sixteen years old, for Salazar’s sake.   
He gasped at the sudden image of said sixteen year old, naked and straddling him, her young firm ample breasts bouncing as she..  
No! NO! That certainly did not happen. The Dark Lord was having his fun with him. 

But it didn’t add up. The Dark Lord’s humour tended more toward the vicious. If he were to fill his head with false memories of Potter and his pert little know-it-all sidekick, they would be more horrific..   
They would not be centred around his pleasure with the children.. but rather depict him torturing or eviscerating them.. Likely something even worse. His master was quite creative in his psychological cruelty.

This prompted a very faint impression of a battered and broken Hermione being shared between the Lestrange brothers while ..others.. waited in the wings to take their turn.  
His stomach revolved.   
That would be the reality then. 

He hoped the poor girl was dead.

After what seemed like hours, the silence was broken by a crack of apparition.   
He squinted slightly in the sudden bright light as torches abruptly illuminated on both left and right walls. 

They offered a view of a small but surprisingly clean cell... and his Lord, who stood, inhuman and monstrous as ever.. and seemingly not in the best of humours.

Severus dragged himself up on his elbows and struggled to get onto his knees. His body felt tight and sore as if he had been exerting himself, although he seemed to be uninjured.

The man.. the entity.. was staring down at him with a most singular expression. Suspicion.. yes. But the Dark Lord was so frequently suspicious that it barely rated notice. Trepidation however.. that was new. 

“Good evening Severus” the unnatural voice offered with ..again.. that strange note of concerned scrutiny.   
Severus pondered on how good the evening could possibly be if he was in a cell and the Dark Lord was paying him a private visit.

“Good evening, my Lord” he responded guardedly. Until he learned exactly how damned he was here, there was no call to go poking the tiger.

“How are you feeling?

Again.. what an odd question for his cold, callous and inhumanly cruel master to pose. He had no doubt done something to him. Perhaps it was an experiment of some kind - A spell or potion he wished to test.

“I am..physically well... I believe” he answered.

This didn’t seem to reassure the Dark Lord in the slightest.   
“And your mind? What do you remember, my servant?”

He weighed alternatives quickly. There did not seem to be much benefit in lying at present. Perhaps the truth would protect him in this instance.   
“I.. appear to be suffering from memory loss, my Lord. I have only..disjointed and inexplicable fragments of recent events in my mind. ...What has occurred? Why am I in the dungeons?”

Voldemort seemed to consider this for some time. When he spoke, it was in a quiet voice that gave Severus goosebumps. It was not the soft, dangerous voice the man used when he was leading one into a trap and intended to dispense punishment - this voice reminded him of the tone used by healers at St Mungos when they spoke to the families of those who had suffered terminal injury. 

“Tell me first what exactly you remember, Severus.”

He wet his lips and strained to collect the bizarre thoughts that had been whirling through his mind before the Dark Lord had attended him.

“I recall.. something about the forbidden forest..”   
The Dark Lord’s face lightened, seemed almost to look hopeful. “Yes.. What occurred there, Severus?”

By best will he hadn’t the foggiest notion.   
“I.. am not sure. Hermione Granger – Potter’s mudblood friend - was present.. As well as Draco Malfoy.   
And Potter himself.. I believe he was there also. I.. I do not know what happened. It seems to me that the mudblood was.. perhaps.. fighting.. with me. I am not certain, my Lord.”

The look of hope was extinguished.   
“And before this.. what do you remember of the past days.. and weeks..?”

Severus strained his memory for the most recent solid piece of information.  
“Teaching class.. Brewing.. There was a revel.. I attended briefly and observed a family with four young children.. two of them twins-“

Lord Voldemort hissed in disapproval. “That memory is almost a month old. Do you remember nothing at all of the last weeks?”

Severus shifted on his knees uneasily. Punishment was hovering over him like Damocles sword.   
“I.. I cannot be sure..” he offered quickly. “The images I recall are.. are quite improbable.”

“Show me” the Dark Lord demanded. Severus quailed and redoubled his occlumentic walls before offering his eyes to the blood red slitted ones.   
He felt the penetration and pushed the bizarre memories of Potter and Miss Granger forward. As they were very brief and disconnected, he did not experience the sensation of the Dark Lord browsing through them. He did, however sense a flare of emotion at the second memories.. the ones featuring Miss Granger.   
He expected his Lord to withdraw but instead the man seemed to turn and attack his defences. He strained to concentrate and keep them in place.  
Just when he was beginning to despair, he felt the presence in his mind recede.

“Open your mind to me, Severus. I must know the extent of the damage.”

This troubling demand nearly undid his control over his facial expressions. He blinked and questioned, against his better judgement, what exactly had befallen him. It was in his experience, never a safe prospect to attempt to question the Dark Lord on any matter. He told one what they needed to know and no more. To question him was to suggest that his judgement was lacking in assessing what one might need to know. Lord Voldemort was the only one who asked questions.. He could count the instances upon one hand, in which a questioning death eater had escaped punishment.

It seemed that this was to be one of those instances. 

“You have suffered an attack upon your mind, Severus. I do not wish to discuss the event in too much detail at present, however suffice it to say that I am not responsible for your present state. I shall endeavour to repair the damage, as far as it is possible to do so. It would be less troublesome if you would allow me access to your mind in order to do so.. however if you insist upon being obstinate, I will employ force to examine you.”

Severus couldn’t help furrowing his brow. He couldn’t help it. The way the evil bastard was speaking was so absurd. Did his mind contain some shred of information that the Dark Lord required? That was a foolish question – his mind always had contained information that the Dark Lord required.   
It was not absurd that he was threatening to break him in order to gain access to his mind. It was even possible that he might offer to repair the damage – what was absurd was the concern in his voice and his insistence that he was not to blame for the memory loss.

“As for the other things you recall-“ the Dark Lord continued “Reports from Draco have confirmed that yourself and Harry Potter apparently engaged in some form of intimacy last week. The first memory you have of Hermione Granger is in all likelihood genuine, although I will confirm it in her mind later, however the second memory.. of the girl in the black room.. is false. It is a graft based upon the incident with Reginald Grimshaws eldest daughter. Again.. it was not I who placed it in your mind.”

“You will confirm the memory in Miss Granger’s mind? She is also here?” Although his tone remained neutral, the thought troubled him deeply.   
If Hermione Granger was in the Dark Lord’s domain, she would not be long for this world. 

The Dark Lord offered a hair-raising smile.   
“Oh she is not here.” He gestured at the dungeon cell around them. “She is resting at present within a guest room. She is.. relatively.. unharmed, with the exception of an unfortunate incident with Bella earlier this evening”   
Again the snake faced man seemed to scrutinise him as if watching for something.   
Severus could imagine any number of unfortunate things that Bellatrix Black might take it into her demented head to do to another person. 

“Would you like to visit her?” his Lord offered. 

It seemed like a trap. He could almost feel the punishment he was certain to receive. His muscles ached sympathetically.   
“I will do as my Lord wishes” he responded mechanically.

“Indeed you will - are you able to stand?” Lord Voldemort inspected him with raised brows.   
Cautiously he climbed to his feet.

A thin white hand was offered to him. Gingerly he took it.   
It was cold and hard and reminded him of marble.   
Expecting it, as he was, the apparition barely stirred his stomach to a mild queasiness. He looked around quickly at the room in which they now found themselves.

It was a relatively pleasant bedchamber with generous proportions, including a large bed, in which the familiar curly haired witch lay upon her back with her eyes closed. She appeared very small within the large bed and her complexion was pallid.   
Astounding. It looked, at least from his present vantage point, as if the Dark Lord had spoken the truth. Hermione Granger appeared to be unharmed, with the exception of her stillness and the pinched expression on her face that informed him that she was likely recovering from the Cruciatus.

“You may approach her if you wish, Severus” the slithery voice offered generously. Uneasily, he complied with the suggestion and moved to the side of the bed. The memory of his intimacy with the girl flashed again in his mind and, to his shock, was joined by several other memories. In one of them he was inserting a large dildo gag into her mouth, apparently with her avid permission.   
He stepped back quickly and tried to regain control over himself. The memories were quite..compelling and his body was beginning to react. He was flooded with yet another memory of Hermione below him, clinging to him as he kissed her passionately and stepped back again, seeking to physically retreat from the prospect of molesting an underage witch. 

Unfortunately he met a vertical surface in his retreat. His master was behind him. 

Terror seized his internal organs and began to twist as cold hands descended upon his shoulders and he felt a cool breath next to his ear.  
“What else do you remember, my servant?”   
The dark seductive tone nearly made him leap away and rub at his ear to rid it of the repugnant sensation of his master’s scaly skin. But as if summoned, more memories flared up in his head.   
He could see.. their interconnection..the flow of events..to some degree..   
Kissing Hermione.. and then.. then being pulled away.. Watching as the Dark Lord buried his face betwixt the girl’s legs.. and then worse.. God.. he felt ill. He could remember the sensation of the reptilian creature’s organ in his mouth. He remembered feeling arousal.. the hands holding him, forcing him deeper, using him brutally. 

How?! How had it occurred. And why?! It was entirely ..unthinkable.   
Impossible that the Dark Lord might decide to fuck a muggleborn.. beyond impossible that he would choose to perform cunnilingus upon one.   
And as for what he had done with Severus himself...  
Why?!   
The question remained plaintively in his mind. Lord Voldemort had not shown the least carnal interest in him since the hour that he sent him forth from his chambers over a decade ago.   
And yet, somehow, over the course of the last weeks that state of affairs had seemingly changed.   
He could not find any explanation. He was no longer the awkward boy he had once been. Lucius and he were merely old friends. There was no reason for his master to take it into his head to desire him. He had certainly not given him the faintest incentive to do so, as far as he could recall.

“I see that you do remember something else, Severus”

His Lord’s hands slipped from his shoulders, his fingertips trailing down Severus back momentarily as he stepped away from him. The sensation reminded Severus of spiders. He could not quite suppress the shudder of revulsion. 

“I do not understand, my Lord” he managed and cut himself off before he could stammer inanity. 

The faintly irritated sigh was another new sound from his master.   
“It..matters little, Severus. Perhaps you will regain further memories if you remain here with Hermione for a while. Do not disturb her. The pain has abated sufficiently for her to be placed under a somnus but her rest will be fragile. Remain outside the silencing spell upon the bed. I will be ...disappointed.. should you wake her.”

Severus watched the dangerous snake turn almost disinterestedly and apparate away.   
His mind raced in the resulting stillness. 

Perhaps he should attempt to escape. Whatever was taking place here, it felt dangerous. 

He glanced back at his student, pale against the pillows in the large bed. If he were to try to leave, he would have to take Miss Granger with him.   
...The Dark Lord had referred to her as Hermione. Consistently.   
In that revolting memory of her.. in which the Dark Lord had been ..orally pleasuring her.. she had not appeared to be fighting.   
A deep sickening queasiness spread through his stomach.   
Surely.. Miss Granger was an intelligent girl. If she was not resisting, then it was simply because she recognised that to do so would be ineffectual and would only bring pain upon her.

Surely..

He felt the queasiness spread and, without warning a sharp lance of fire seemed to drive through his left eye. He cried out, bending and clamping his hands over the offending organ.   
It was too hot. He couldn’t breathe.  
Dropping to his knees, he tugged at his collar and struggled to think of what he had been doing.. what had he been thinking about? He had been about to do something. It was important.   
Abruptly the fog in his mind cleared and he felt he could see everything once more.   
His head rose slowly, taking in the room.   
The girl... the dangerous.. corrupted girl..was laying in the bed before him. Hermione Granger.. once a promising student.. now a debased little whore and a threat to the light.   
She would use her abilities in the Dark Lord’s service. She would weaken Potter with emotional manipulation.   
The Granger girl had to be removed. If she could not be taken forcibly back to the Order - where she might receive treatment; where she could be controlled - then she had to be destroyed. 

He climbed to his feet carefully, his eyes on the sleeping figure, alert for any sign of change in her condition. 

Where was his wand? He did not have it. Impatiently, his eyes darted around the room for a suitable object.   
The heavy iron candlestick on the bedside table was the most promising weapon. He stalked over to it and hefted it experimentally, turning back to the sleeping girl and taking the crucial two steps to her side. 

He would need to do it quickly and effectively. If she woke.. she could perhaps fight. He was not certain how capable her wandless magic might be at present.   
If she called the Dark Lord, the time would not be sufficient to carry out the act. 

Decisively he hefted the bludgeon over his head and, without hesitation, brought it down as hard as he could upon the little whore’s head, striking at the bridge of her nose, which caved in to a pit of blood and bone. The girl woke and tried to scream. She didn’t succeed. Severus’ arm rose and fell rapidly, again and again till there was little left that was recognisable. Only then did he drop the candlestick and step back. 

...He stared at a crack in the flagstones, struggling against a sudden wave of confusion that threatened to overwhelm him. It felt like vertigo. All of a sudden he had a sense of disorientation. He wondered what he had been doing. Glancing up, he gagged and stumbled backward pell mell from the mess on the bed, where only seconds before Hermione Granger had lain.   
In panic he reached again for his wand, noticing once more that it was not there. He whirled, looking for the culprit to the bloody murder and found the Dark Lord sitting calmly in a chair by the fire. 

“My Lord.. what.. I.. I do not understand!” he protested. “Why did you bring me here?! To see...this..? Why did you.. Why..”  
His brain felt overloaded by the peculiar event. To see what had become of his student... the girl from the bizarre memories.. No doubt this was the reason for the memories.. to make the event even more troubling to him. But..why?! He couldn’t articulate it but he did not understand why the Dark Lord would resort to physical force. The murder object was obviously the candlestick on the floor by the bed..   
The Dark Lord abhorred all things muggle. He killed magically. Always. 

“Severus..” Lord Voldemort said with that strange regret in his voice again. “It was not I that killed the girl.” 

Reeling at the words.. it seemed that his Master had been telling him over and over since he had woken in the dungeon that it was not he that harmed him.. it was not he that placed false memories in his mind.. it was not he that cursed Hermione Granger.. and now.. when they had been alone in the room.. it was not the Dark Lord who killed the defenceless muggleborn.   
No. Of course not. What was the monster playing at now?!

“Your hands.. your clothes, Severus” his master pointed out quietly.

Confused, Severus looked down, dreadful suspicion dawning in the back of his mind even as he did.   
The blood..  
He was covered in it. His hands still tacky with it. It was not even dry. The front of his austere robes was spattered with ragged drops and splashes.   
Aghast, he reeled.   
Had he been under the imperius?   
No.. no.. he would remember the act if it had been that spell.   
One of the lesser compulsion curses? A dark possession spell? Something new? 

The only clear point in his mind was that he had been standing here in one moment and then, without the sense of any intervening time, he had found the mutilated body before him.   
A number of curses could possibly cause such a loss of time.   
It was undoubtedly the Dark Lord, although why he had gone to such trouble still escaped the potions master. The time since he woke had moved from confusing to downright otherworldly. 

“Severus... I will bring you to a room where you will rest” the Dark Lord informed him, sounding weary. “I cannot do more for you tonight. Tomorrow perhaps there will be time to delve deeper and examine the extent of the damage.” He seemed to sigh again and then, without warning, raised his wand.   
There was no time to panic and debate avoiding the spell before an incarcerous variant had bound him. He stood unsteadily in place, confused and concerned, as the serpentine figure rose from its chair and approached him. 

 

 

Lord Voldemort slid deeper into the steaming crimson bath, feeling the warmth penetrate in a way that not even the shower managed.   
It had been a long evening. Longer than he would have preferred. His appetite for a revel had been low at best, since the debacle in the forbidden forest earlier.. No.. it was yesterday now. He closed his eyes and relaxed, tallying up the positive and negative in the day. 

Negative – Severus was damaged.   
Severely damaged, it seemed.  
It was most disappointing. Particularly after the delightful surprise with the de-aging potion recently.   
There would be no more devoted worship from the intelligent boy who had once turned his head. Even if Severus ever appeared to desire him again, how could he trust it?! 

Dumbledore was capable of many things – foremost among them mental manipulation. It was entirely possible that he might never be able to rely upon Severus again.   
Before this incident he had believed that vows were sufficient.. but as things stood, Severus might be fully functional.. might behave normally one moment and the next moment a submerged alter self might come forward that was not subject to any vows he had made.   
As a minor, barely significant, side-effect – these developments did not bode well for his cloning project. In all likelihood he had acquired the muggle scientists pointlessly.   
Not that it was necessarily a problem. To a large extent, the cloning project had been conceived primarily to challenge Severus.. to regain his devotion. He was a valuable man when loyal.   
Oh.. it would have been useful if he had achieved the goal.. To have the option of regaining a body which did not require blood and venom.. which was fully human.. It was not an undesirable outcome..   
But the point of the endeavour had been lost. Severus could no longer be trusted. 

It would require time to tease apart the strands of influence in his mind – a complex task in light of how completely the man could occlude. Perhaps he might never attain enough confidence to rely upon the man’s potions again.   
Indeed.. it might prove best to put the potions master down like a rabid dog; better to err on the side of caution. Thank Salazar he had thought to test him with a polyjuiced muggle..  
It would be such an unfortunate waste of a talented mind to kill him though...  
..against his better judgement, he determined that he would see what might be done with the man’s mind first.

A related negative factor of the evening was the observation that Lucius was quite unbalanced by the events surrounding Severus and Draco.   
On the positive side, the wizard had not attempted to confront him after he had removed Draco and the muggle from the revel and returned without him a short time later. Lucius had, however, stalked about the room like a cat with its hackles up, searching for his son for the rest of the evening. 

Further negatives – Rodolphus bore strongly conflicted feelings toward Hermione. 

He would have preferred that his general did not so much as remember that the girl existed, but in his case, discovering at a later date that the mudblood had already cursed him and that he had been obliviated would destabilise his loyalty more effectively than leaving him to resolve his inner turmoil now. 

After returning from ‘rewarding’ Draco, He had been sought out by a bloodsoaked Rodolphus, who had enquired after the mudblood’s health.   
On a whim, and wishing to make absolutely clear her presence in his quarters and in his bed, he had brought him along to ‘check’ on her - A kindness he would otherwise not have afforded the girl in light of the fact that he found it difficult to tolerate whining in others. Rather than risk her provoking his spite and being further injured, he would have left her to endure the discomfort alone and returned in the early hours, by which point she would have been over the worst pain and too exhausted to communicate much.

The behaviour of both Rodolphus and the mudblood was very informative. It seemed that Hermione had, disappointingly, allowed herself to be cajoled into making the elder Lestrange brother a promise.   
Thankfully her promise had been contingent upon his will and Lord Voldemort found himself disinclined to permit his pet to offer up information to his best interrogator - particularly information known only to the two of them.  
Rodolphus had not been surprised at the refusal. He had not truly expected to be allowed to remain in her presence alone while she lay immobilised in his Lord’s bed, suffering, but had asked in order to frighten the girl and oblige her to remember her promise. Satisfied in having achieved that end, he had returned to the revel without demur.   
Voldemort himself had left shortly after, with the girl trying not to cry, for fear of disappointing and angering him. 

It was potentially problematic that Bellatrix had been obliviated, he conceded. It had been expedient to settle the matter so.. but he had promised Hermione revenge, revenge which would necessitate yet another obliviate upon the already severely unhinged witch, if all was to continue smoothly among his most faithful servants. Bella had already been obliviated twice over the last fortnight. It was unwise to further strain her mind with the rough spell.   
He was not certain that it would not be better to kill poor mad desperate Bella for the same reasons as Severus. She would continue to constitute a threat, if he allowed her to live.   
On the other hand, she had been among his most loyal from the first war and, even in her madness, she had proven useful in the stand-off at the wards of Hogwarts.   
Moreover, he could not be certain how Rodolphus and his brother would react to the execution of his pureblooded wife for reasons that were, at core, centred around convenience and the protection of a mudblood. It did seem that his general was weary of the irrational manias of the witch, who also refused to provide him with an heir; however that did not mean that he would respond favourably to eliminating her. 

He frowned slightly and laid the matter aside for further consideration. He would need to examine Rodolphus’ mind before he determined what would become of Bella. 

A positive then – Draco had performed more than adequately.   
He had demonstrated the ability to cast all three unforgiveables on command. He was evidently capable of rudimentary seduction, as his memories with Potter showed, and he was equally capable of sadism, to judge by the state in which Voldemort had found the halfblood witch, in whose blood he was presently bathing. 

Draco had been sated and drowsy when he had returned to check upon the boy. He lay wrapped in a sheet upon the bed, half sleeping. The naked witch was trussed like an animal on the floor, nearly catatonic, bulbous bound breasts an angry shade of indigo and a massive plug in her rectum. A large number of teeth were strewn around. They were whole, indicating that they had been hexed out rather than forcefully extracted.   
He had activated the boy’s mark gently, the tingle causing Draco to startle awake and cover himself in terror, however he had relaxed somewhat when Voldemort had praised him and informed him that he would be requiring the witch for another matter. When he had levitated and summoned the girl, Draco had been almost dozing again, struggling to keep his eyes open. 

It was true that he was in no way as attractive as Severus had been, nevertheless the sight of the young sated blonde creature wound in the sheets was far from unpleasant.   
It was a pity that both elder and younger Malfoys would make an untenable fuss were he actually to summon the boy to his bed. In earlier years that might have provoked him to do so, irrespective how little he might desire the boy – however in his age he had evidently mellowed. Lucius Malfoy was a useful man and the fuss that fucking his son would cause was simply not worth the anticipated delights of the young naiveling’s body. Draco was not at all the type of male he found himself naturally drawn to. If anything Harry Potter was more appealing in the memories he had observed in Draco’s mind. Black hair.. piercing eyes. Were he not so repulsively foolish.. so distastefully Gryffindor..

Potter was one further high point of the evening. 

When the necklace had activated upon the boy’s panic, Lord Voldemort had been in the grand hall, observing events, prior to visiting Severus. The vista before him at the time had been a convincing depiction of the torments of the underworld and had soothed his temper wonderfully. For a moment, he had thought that some further attack upon the boy was in progress, however it turned out that actual events were far more perfect.   
Albus, the fool, had obviously imagined that forcing Potter to forget all that had happened recently might return him to a more malleable state. All it had done was push the boy into a position where Voldemort himself might enlighten him as to the true sequence of recent events. The contact between them was more intimate now than it had been before, even in dreams.   
To his satisfaction, it was apparent that Potter now trusted his enemy over the guiding beacon of the so-called light side.   
Were he to discover a means of bringing the boy out through the wards, Potter would, with tolerably high probability, be persuaded to come straight to him.   
He would gambol gaily to his death like a lamb to the slaughter...

Distractedly, Lord Voldemort raised his hand from the bloody water, watching the red beads of liquid flow down his slender white fingers. In his mind’s eye he imagined Harry Potter kneeling before him, begging to be spared.. swearing oaths never again to attempt any harm upon his person or his horcruxes.   
He saw the boy weeping and promising not to touch Hermione.. promising to serve in indentured slavery to the Malfoy family for the rest of his life..agreeing to give up his magic, prostrating himself in misery upon the floor before him.  
It was a pleasing thought.. however while the boy lived, some spark of that damned prophesy might flare up.   
He would not allow Harry Potter to stand between himself and immortality.   
Given time and security, he could take Britain. He could bend the other nations to his will and expand his domain over the years and centuries.   
He could learn all the great magic that had been written in the world and further develop his own. 

And the only thing standing between him and triumph was one pathetic specimen of a boy. 

As much as it might appeal, to subjugate and enjoy Harry, it was an unnecessary risk. No. The boy would die. As soon as it were possible to reliably see the act to conclusion.

The bath was growing cool and beginning to leech the warmth back out of his body. He heated it once more and curled down in it, pressing shut the slits that served as his nose now and sinking below the crimson surface. His hands smoothed the coppery liquid into the slick skin of his scalp and rubbed it into his face. Although it stung, he opened his eyes to the liquid and blinked them, allowing it to penetrate there also. 

When he rose up out of the red bath again, he knew, without bothering to glance in the mirror, that he looked perfectly monstrous. A creature out of nightmares - alien and dripping with his victim’s blood.   
He sighed softly. It was not the way he had foreseen his own future. 

Yes, he had killed unflinchingly, even in his youth.. But he had never imagined ..this. ...This face.. this existence hidden away from the wizarding world.   
He had always seen himself becoming a Dark Lord much like (although superior to) Grindelwald - a wizard who even unto the time of his demise had attended balls, had visited the streets of the lands he had captured – who was restricted by no being.   
But then, Grindelwald was seen by the world as a man. The world at large did not view him in that way.   
The very venoms and potions which preserved his health in this body fashioned by dark magic, were the same that prevented simple magic such as glamours and transfigurations from acting upon his body for any functional length of time.   
He had known that it would be this way. It was a resurrection – a better resurrection than the previous attempts – but, as always, it came at a price.

Rising from the bath discontentedly, he scourgified the red tint from his white skin and spelled himself dry. 

When he slipped back into his bedchamber from the bathroom, he could see that the little mudblood’s eyes were closed and she seemed to be breathing relatively evenly.   
Had she perhaps reached the end of the uncomfortable itching stage and succeeded in falling asleep?   
He moved to the bed and drew back the covers, pausing for a moment to look upon the very young body revealed. ...She was so small.. so sweetly formed.. 

“I’m sorry” the girl murmured, eyes still closed.

Smirking slightly, he slid into the bed beside her and drew her warm inert body close before responding.   
“For what are you apologising?”

“For whining. Earlier. I’m sorry.”

She felt wonderful against his newly sensitive skin and he smoothed his palms down her curves, with a soft appreciative hum.   
“I did not punish you, did I? Your..whimpering.. was understandable to me, Hermione. How are you feeling now?”  
He asked, purely in order to appear solicitous, since he could already tell by the cadence of her breathing and the calmness in her mind that she was almost recovered.

“Much better” she confirmed. “Please.. could you take the spell off?”

He hesitated for a moment, considering the appeal of taking her in this state. She was like a living, breathing doll. He was not really in the mood for such exertions at present however. It had been a long night. He dropped the partial petrificus wandlessly and felt the girl’s tight body melt in his arms as she sighed in relief. 

She remembered to thank him before she turned, squirming in his arms, till she faced him and could place her own arm around him. Upon doing so, she seemed to startle and pulled even closer, her hand moving over the surface of his back in a way that felt more exploratory than embracing.  
“You feel..different.” she whispered. “Softer.. warmer.. Is it a potion?”

“Mm.” He murmured back, curling around her more tightly. “Something like that. Go to sleep, Hermione.”

He felt her take a breath in preparation for further questioning but, showing her intelligence yet again, she stopped before she could start and instead curled her leg around his own, her hand resting in the small of his back. Her breathing became more regular quite quickly.   
He smiled to himself at how his little pet was learning. He had feared that she might lose her immediate fear of him and develop ideas above her station just as Bella had. It seemed however that her slip while immobilised in pain had been just that – a slip. One that she recognised as a failure when her higher thought processes returned.  
And he readily conceded to himself that it was pleasant to have her body like a living heater in bed beside him while he slept.   
When he grew cooler he turned and she continued to cling, warming his back in a manner that warming charms did not manage to achieve. He wondered whether any partner would be as successful in that respect. 

He was not growing attached to her.

...mate.. his mind whispered traitorously. 

It was telling that he did not feel on edge when she was present. He could allow himself to sleep without immobilising her or otherwise securing himself against attack. On some level he trusted her not to wish harm upon him. 

Hermione’s fingertips stroked his abdomen lightly, although a gentle probe to her mind told him that she was sound asleep. He shifted slightly, making himself more comfortable and placed his own hand on top of her own, threading his fingers through her much smaller ones.   
Knowing he was smiling faintly, and pleased that no one would ever know exactly how content he felt in this moment, he allowed himself to finally drift off to sleep.

 

 

The spell sent him crashing against the wall. He hadn’t even seen it coming! 

“What.. Father!!” he cried, shocked and more than a little afraid. Lucius Malfoy was rarely out of control. At the moment he was very nearly foaming at the mouth as he dragged Draco up by the collar and held him against the wall, feet dangling several inches above the ground. 

Less than an hour earlier, Draco had woken, alone, in a nondescript bedchamber, wrapped in a sheet, his own emissions crackly on the cotton and flaky on his skin.   
He had felt disorientated at first but his memory had condensed at the sight of the teeth scattered over the floor. He remembered cursing them out when the little bitch had bitten him. The screeching hufflepuff had spat them out onto the mattress in horror and he’d grabbed a handful and tossed them absently, flicking the others off the bed with the side of his hand. 

The memory of the Dark Lord waking him returned too. For a moment he’d thought..   
But it had been ok. He didn’t know what he’d have done if it hadn’t been. It was a warning to him. Pleasing the Dark Lord was a good thing. Certainly. Spending more time around the man however was dangerous.   
He’d gotten up and collected his scattered clothing, dressed and slipped from the room, disapparating back to the Manor. It had been while he was walking down the upstairs corridor toward his bedroom that his father had struck without warning.

“Where did he take you? What did he do to you?! Answer me, Draco!”

Draco sputtered foolishly. “Nothing.. Nothing! He did nothing to me. he.. he..”

Lucius Malfoy actually growled in fury. “Draco - I will have the truth! Did he force you? Did you.. Did you..offer yourself to him?!”

“No! Listen to me. He didn’t do anything like that! He.. he tested me.. and then he rewarded me! I.. I promise, father!”

His father’s narrow, slate-grey gaze threatened to flay the flesh from his bones.   
A moment later he was dropped however and landed clumsily on his feet. His hands went automatically to his collarbone, massaging the bruise his father had left.

“Explain.” Lucius demanded softly. “How exactly did he ‘test’ you.. Where were you for the duration of the evening?”

Draco scowled up at him. His father still had a good five inches on him, and quite a few pounds of muscle.   
“I was looking forward to telling you.. He tested me on the unforgiveables with one of the muggles from the revel. ...I..I managed to cast the Killing Curse.”  
He held his breath, hoping that his father would be pleased with him.

Lucius pursed his lips and seemed to think on this. When he spoke his voice was grave.   
“That is..a significant achievement. I am..proud..”

He did not sound proud. He sounded disappointed. Draco felt his stomach drop.   
He couldn’t have disappointed him in this! It had been what his father had wanted of him for the past year. He’d tested him over and over on the curse. 

“What’s wrong now?! Didn’t you want that?! You’ve been..” he trailed off, self pity overwhelming the frustration “...I don’t understand, father! How am I supposed to please you?! Nothing I do is good enough!”

The older wizard winced.   
“Draco.. You do not comprehend the larger picture. I am pleased that you have mastered such a demanding spell.. I wish that I might have shared your success with you.. But now that you have proven yourself capable of killing.. he will use you in missions with the other initiates. He will have you kill for him!   
You are too young to see those things. And now that you no longer attend Hogwarts I cannot remove you from the dangers that surround service to him.   
I..worry.. for you, Draco. You are my only heir. With Severus injured, I shall be the only one watching over your safety... And I am in the ministry all day. If you spend your days there, the chances of something-”

Draco railed indignantly. “I can take care of myself! I don’t need anyone watching over me. I almost delivered Potter to the Dark Lord yesterday. ME! Alone! You didn’t even know I’d been reporting to him. He wants me to brew for him! - to take Severus place. He’s going to teach me, father! Last night he rewarded me. He gave me a witch to use as I liked. I knew her - she was a seventh year student and I enjoyed-“

“Draco!”   
He paused as his father’s voice suggested that it would not be wise to push him any further. Unable to stop himself, however, now that the poison was flowing, he spat his vitriol.

“I’m sick of trying to please you - You have nothing to say now about what I do or don’t do. You’ll see. I don’t need you anymore!”   
Finally satisfied, he turned and stalked down the corridor to his room without looking back. 

The corridor was still and silent; his father hadn’t moved. 

Slamming the door behind him he called for an elf at once and ordered it to pack his things.   
The Dark Lord had said he would no longer be living in the Manor. No better time to move than now.

He paced furiously while the elf prepared his bag. How dare his father demand things of him and then reprimand him when he achieved them. What did he want?! He insisted upon seeing everything he did as a failure – even this. His explanation was insulting.. As if Draco were incapable of defending himself..   
The Dark Lord himself had taken him under his wing. No death eater would go against their Lord’s will.

The little elf shrank the single suitcase to the size of a handbag. “Master Draco I’s done” it interrupted his angry thoughts. He glared as it held out the small bag timidly.

Draco snatched it and gave the ugly creature a kick for its troubles.   
“Go and make sure that my father is in his study” he ordered it impatiently.

When it returned and confirmed that Lucius was at his desk drinking, Draco crept out of the room and down to the apparition point, with a feeling like he was escaping from a prison.

It did not feel quite like freedom when he reappeared in the long dark foyer of the dismal shadowy mansion the Dark Lord was currently occupying. The room was empty and his every step echoed hollowly off the polished granite floor. 

He realised that he hadn’t the slightest idea where to go from here. He knew neither where Severus potions laboratory was located, nor the position of the Dark Lord’s study from this room. It was seven in the morning and he doubted the Dark Lord would respond well to being woken in order to give him a room. No doubt he’d find himself roomed in the dungeons if he tried it. 

At a loss for anything better to do he trudged to the closest wall and slid down, stemming his arms on his bent knees and dropping his head onto them.   
His father would be beside himself when he realised that Draco had left without even a word. He would see then that he should have treated him better. He should have appreciated him.

It was so quiet that he could hear his own heartbeat...

Extremely sorry for himself, he closed his eyes and tried to ignore the way his mind drifted perversely to the bane of his existence. He couldn’t help but wonder what had become of Potter after the incident in the forbidden forest.   
Was he locked away somewhere now? Was he being tortured?  
Draco hoped he was. It would serve him right. The amount of torture he had endured over time because of the boy who refused to croak..   
Potter had been...so lonely, though. It bothered him to remember the way he’d looked up at him – hopeful and vulnerable...   
It was wrong to expose one’s weakness to others – it was a sign of poor breeding. Seeing that desperate pleading on Potter’s face had disgusted him, he told himself. 

...Was Harry perhaps thinking of him too right now?

Growling in self-disgust, he banged his head against his arms lightly. He had to push the pathetic little fag out of his mind. He wasn’t under orders anymore. He didn’t have to allow the thought of Potter into his mind.   
It didn’t work and he found himself actually wallowing in his own misery. Too much had happened over the last days. It felt like he had been ripped out of his world by the roots and tossed into space. Now he was floating in the void waiting for the point of greatest gravity to catch him and drag him in. 

In the dim silence, it was hard to drive the thought of hungry, needy, excited green eyes from his mind.

It was the eyes, he convinced himself. The next time he pleased the Dark Lord, he’d ask for a green eyed witch.

In his preoccupation with the desired attributes of the theoretical future-witch (long dark hair. Athletic body), he didn’t even notice the door open.   
By the time he heard the low voice, it was too late to draw his wand... the man was already standing over him, his own wand drawn.

“Are you waiting up for me, little baby Malfoy?...”

Draco felt his blood run cold. Travers. Travers was looming over him with a predatory glint in his eye. He remembered the muggle boy from the revel. The blood. Screams and gurgles.   
The tall, powerfully built, dark haired wizard was looking down at him like a hungry wolf. Fuck looking – Travers was holding a wand on him.. Shit. Shit shit shit shit. Could he get to his own wand? Could he.. yell or something?  
The thought was lunacy No one would come in answer to a scream in this place. There were practically continuously screams. Any death eater who was meant to be here would tend to be the reason for the screams rather than their source.

Travers smile seemed to grow in the face of Draco’s fear. His short, tousled, dark-brown curls were almost the same shade as his eyes, Draco’s mind observed unhelpfully while his fear swelled and threatened to overwhelm him.. The wizard before him was among the Dark Lord’s elite – and one of the youngest among them, he couldn’t have been more than thirty, by Draco’s estimation. Although he wasn’t sure what Travers did when he wasn’t here, he was regularly rewarded for successes and everything that Draco had seen of him suggested that he was brutal, bloodthirsty, physically powerful and far from stupid. Travers was one Death Eater that his father had warned him to stay far away from at all costs.

“I saw you at the revel last night..” the dangerous wizard informed him with a suggestive twist to his lips “-Or at least.. you were there at the start. I was surprised to see you. I know you’re not of age..   
I’ve been noticing you for quite a few years now. Long before Lucius first started bringing you here. Your father introduced you to me once. I doubt you remember. It was at one of the unofficial gatherings in the Manor while the Dark Lord was gone. You were only ten and threw quite a tantrum at not being allowed to remain with us for the meeting. I offered to put you to bed...but Lucius didn’t allow it. He watched me all the time around you after that.   
You’re an object of desire for many of the Death Eaters, you know; so lovely to look upon and so oblivious, in your childish arrogance, to the nature of the attention given to you.   
..I think you were prettiest when you were thirteen, at that last meeting before things changed – You were like a little colt trying to find its footing – a perfect creature just begging to be torn apart .. I’d have had you then - but unfortunately your father was, as ever, hanging over you like a hawk and snatched you away before I could even speak with you..”   
He made a show of looking around the room with wide eyes and raised brows.   
“I don’t see him here now though. Have you slipped the chain, little Malfoy? Did you sneak away just to find me? ...You were watching me last night.. I could feel it. I took my time with the muggle just for your entertainment. But when I looked up again you and the Dark Lord were gone. I waited around but you didn’t come back. Did he put you to bed early?” The man seemed to find this much more amusing than it seemed to Draco, snickering nastily.   
“Doesn’t matter, I suppose. You came back.” 

Draco swallowed and started to get up. Travers grinned and offered the hand that was not holding the wand on him.   
“Oh.. excuse my manners.. Let me help you...”   
Moving swiftly from afraid to terrified, Draco just looked at the large hand offered and palmed his way back up the wall behind him, avoiding it. It was withdrawn with a shrug.

“Don’t be scared, little Malfoy.... little Draco...” The way his name rolled off the older wizard’s tongue was like a form of aural molestation. He felt dirty simply hearing it. It was nothing like the soft, nervous exhilaration with which Harry had uttered it.  
“I know just where we can go.” Travers reassured him with a nasty leer. “No one will come and disturb us. I’ll show you all the things i’ve thought about doing with you.. and to you.. over the years. We’ll take our time. It’ll be hours before Lucius can convince the Dark Lord to summon everyone.”

That was true. Draco could feel the truth of it vibrating in his bones. His father didn’t even realise he was gone. He was drinking. Ten to one, he would drink more and then fall asleep in his study. He often did that after a revel anyway. It might take all day for anyone to notice he was missing.. The Dark Lord might be busy.. might not be willing to see him when his father called.   
He was completely and utterly fucked here.   
Oh Merlin.. oh Salazar .. he was about to learn the true meaning of that term.   
He really.. really..did not want to be utterly fucked by Travers.   
Travers was big.. strong.. twisted and absolutely void of all mercy. This was just about the worst thing that could possibly have happened. Probably on a par with what he’d been afraid the Dark Lord was going to do last night. Travers was not someone to take lightly. And he wasn’t allowed to do this so chances were, he’d kill him when it was over, just to avoid Draco’s father’s and the Dark Lord’s wrath.  
Oh fucking nimue on a spike! What was he supposed to do now?!

He veered away in panic when Travers moved closer. The other wizard grinned and pursued him.

“You can’t get out of this room; there’s no point running. I’m not going to hurt you yet either. I’ll just take your wand. I think we’ll both get along much better if I have it.”

Draco thought he might actually have a heart attack at sixteen, the way his heart was beating fit to burst out of his chest. 

“Look.. you can’t do this..” he started, trying to think of a reason that would convince the other wizard. 

“Oh I think I can..” Travers interrupted him gleefully. “I’ll enjoy it if you fight, you know. But you should consider giving up. Who knows.. if you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll make it nice for you. At least the first time...”

Draco stiffened, galvanised, and then found his mouth operating almost on auto pilot. The pleading tone was gone, replaced by the one he used when educating his fellow Slytherins.  
“It’s not in your interests to do this.. Even if you kill me - he’ll find out. Either that or my father will and then the Dark Lord will summon you.. hunt you down if need be and allow my father to kill you.   
Our Lord needs me right now.. It’s why i’m here. He was rewarding me last night. You might do.. whatever you want to do to me.. but in the end you’ll die for it.   
I swear on my mother’s life – he’ll fucking kill you if you take me now. There are enough others around for you to fuck – other boys that won’t cost your life!   
Maybe I can’t stop you.. but I’m telling you honestly what will happen if you-“

He got no further before the larger man jumped at him without warning. He found himself pinned up against the wall in short order, Travers hot breath in his face.

“You’re a little liar, Malfoy. A little silver-tongued blackguard like your father. The Dark Lord doesn’t need you. What in Merlin’s name for?! You’re a schoolboy..” He grinned and leaned in, sniffing at Draco’s cheek.  
“You smell of fear and youth and galleons... I’m going to make you scream my name” Draco flinched away as a hot tongue trailed up his jaw and he felt a hand delve into the pocket in which his wand lay.

“I’m not lying, I swear!” he blurted desperately. “Snape’s been..hurt.. Yesterday. He’s gone mad. You can check. The Dark Lord needs me to brew for him. I’m.. I’m the best brewer at Hogwarts. Snape’s my.. my godfather. He’s taught me-“  
He yelped as the other wizard’s wand was stabbed hard against his cheekbone.

“I don’t want to hear it, you fucking little cocktease. I’ve waited too long for you. If I let you go, I’ll never get another chance like this.”

Draco swallowed the lump in his throat and choked out “-going to be living here now. I’ll.. i’ll be here all the time. I promise I won’t tell – if you just let me go now..”

The wonder that dawned on the other wizard’s face was horrible. He looked at Draco as if he’d just been presented with a long stemmed rose by him. “You’ll be here all the time now? Are you lying? You must be lying.. your father would never allow that..   
All the time?.. Where?!”

Wanting to scream – wanting to shut his stupid mouth – Draco answered truthfully “My father no longer has any say in the matter – the Dark Lord decided it. I don’t know where i’ll live. I’m waiting for him to rise and tell me. It’s the truth. On my magic.”

Travers face brightened in delight. “If that’s so.. maybe we can come to some..other arrangement..” His wand withdrew slightly and stroked down Draco’s cheek gently. “I will have you, pretty little boy, but maybe there’s no call to be hurried about it.. Swear on your magic that you won’t tell anyone of our little conversation this morning.. Swear that you’ll allow me access to your room, wherever it might be. Do it, and I’ll not only let you go for now, but I’ll make sure no one else bothers you. You’ll be mine.. My little pet. I’ll protect you.”

Draco shook his head, terrified that refusal was going to doom him again when it was beginning to look like he might get away.

The older wizard’s face darkened once more and he pressed Draco harder into the wall, leaning his body against him. “Alright.. we’ll do it step by step. Swear on your magic that you won’t tell a soul about seeing me this morning”

Draco hesitated, unable to stop himself from shaking all over. If he promised then Travers would be able to do anything to him now without fear of punishment. If he refused to promise, expecting Draco to tell, he’d likely still do what he wanted to him and would then obliviate him. That would be worse. He could clearly imagine how it might be to wake up and discover he’d been raped by some unknown Death Eater. And then he’d go through the horror all over again for the first time, the next time Travers ambushed him out of the blue.

“I..I’ll promise if you promise not to do anything to me today” he tried.

The other wizard seemed to think hard about this. His dark brown eyes narrowed upon Draco.   
“No. I’ve got you here.. and i’ve got no reason to believe what you’ve told me. I want something from you” he demanded in a quiet steely voice

“what?” Draco choked out, his throat dry.

The hand pressed against his chest slid up to his shoulder and pressed down. The implication was enough to have Draco shaking his head frantically.   
“No!! I won’t! Fuck you, Travers! I’m not a fucking fag. I won’t do it! If you leave now, I swear no one will ever know about this..

The dark brown eyes narrowed dangerously and with a quick movement Draco’s legs were swept from beneath him. He crumpled and landed hard with a yelp. Travers was on top of him immediately and in seconds he found himself pinned on his back and unable to extricate himself as the stronger wizard knelt over him with a dark expression.

“S-Stop!” he demanded but it came out squeaky and panicked. Travers smiled nastily. “I don’t see any advantage for me in doing that. Offer me something... Beg..”

Draco looked up in wide eyed horror. Offer what?! There was nothing that the other wizard wanted that he was willing to give.  
Other than.. perhaps..

“You can touch me.. Is that enough? Just touch – nothing more!” He couldn’t help the pleading in his voice. In his head he was screaming ‘please please please don’t make me do anything else.’

Travers seemed amused. “Try harder” he spat and shifted his position till he could bring Draco’s wrists together above his head and hold them in place with one arm. A pointed wand fixed them in place and then Draco cried out, struggling, as he was groped roughly.   
“If I’m to let you go now without feeling any part of your body tight and hot around my cock.. I’ll want more than one taste of you, Draco. You’ll be mine whenever I want you. Swear that you’ll let me into your rooms whenever I come to you.”   
The other wizard’s hand, which had been feeling his chest and abdomen moved down further and cupped his cock and sack through his robes, weighing them slightly. 

It was awful beyond words to be fondled against his will. Draco couldn’t help the protesting cries that flowed from his lips.   
“No! Please.. don’t! Don’t, Travers! Let me go! Fucking STOP!”

It earned him a ringing slap.  
Memories of the mudblood suddenly flew up in his mind. While he was still reeling, his robes were unfastened and opened. The cold air tightened his skin. He gasped as the other wizard leaned down and licked up the shallow dell between his lean pectoral muscles.

“You can fight if you want.. but you will make the oath by the time i’m done with you” Travers growled low.


	24. Chapter 24

“No.. No.. I won’t.. I’m.. I’m not..”

Draco yelped as he was bitten hard and struggled with his entire body against the weight of the other wizard over him.   
A low blow to his stomach knocked all the wind out of him and he fought to breathe, limply enduring the hard sucks and licks as Travers moved down his body.

It was nothing like Harry and he was horrified and appalled when his own cock hardened at the approach of the man’s mouth. He closed his eyes, ignoring Travers’ delighted little chuckle.  
“Seems you’re not as opposed to this as you want to believe you are, little Draco.. Do you want me to suck it? Want me to wrap my lips around it and make you feel..so.. very.. good? Make the oath! You’ll enjoy being mine.. I’ll protect you.. and perhaps.. perhaps I might not hurt you as much as I thought to.”

“stop!...” Draco whined. “I don’t want it. I don’t like wizards. Let me go!!”

Travers smiled nastily. It suited him somehow – made him look like a cross between a faun and the god of war. Draco felt his stomach turn – he wasn’t going to get away. No one was going to come to save him. Chances were, Travers was so high in the Dark Lord’s favour that he might not even be punished severely for doing this if he was caught.

His cock twitched at the unexpected passage of a fingertip trailing up it slowly, while Traver’s chocolate brown eyes pinned him, dark amusement swimming in their depths. Struggling achieved nothing. Draco growled in frustrated distress.  
“Get off! Stop touching me. When my father hears about-“

“Fuck Lucius Malfoy” the older wizard pronounced with satisfaction. “You’re mine. You’ve been mine since I first laid eyes on you – Neither you nor Lucius can do a damn thing about it now. Either you swear on your magic to grant me access to your chambers whenever I wish...or I’ll take us both out of the Dark Lord’s domain now and fill the hours before your death with all the dark little things I’ve dreamed of doing to you. I’ll bleed you for the years you’ve been hidden from me. There will be torment...and I mean agony..beyond your spoiled childish imagining before you finally end..”  
Draco gasped and jerked in shock as a large warm hand wrapped itself around his shaft and stroked lightly once up and down. He tried not to move in reaction but his body was beginning to betray him.

“I.. I don’t want-“

“What you want isn’t important. Make the oath before I lose my patience. I’ve put off taking my pleasure with you long enough.” Travers eyes flickered away from Draco’s own silver gaze to glide down over his exposed body. The hand gripping Draco’s cock tightened slightly and moved again, smoothly up and down. It felt traitorously arousing. He struggled against the need to buck against it. In response, the hand withdrew and he watched as the brown haired wizard spat into his own palm and then reapplied it to its prior occupation. Now it was even worse. Or better. No. worse. He did not want this!  
He clenched his eyes and tried to think of something awful – something that would deflate his straining erection.  
The soft laugh above him told him that the older boy knew what he was doing.   
A moment later he cried out in shock and unwanted pleasure when a hot wet mouth closed over the head of his cock and suckled gently. 

“..fuck.. fuck... stop..” he choked out tightly. Finally he fumbled out the word that he had been taught in earliest childhood by his mother; the word his father abhorred him using.   
“Please!!...please stop!”  
He whimpered and threw his head back when the wizard started to suck him off in earnest.   
It was irresistible. Travers was good. He was thrusting up against him almost immediately, groaning. The other wizard manipulated him expertly to the brink of climax.  
And then drew back.

The combination of the cold air striking his sensitive wet flesh and the sudden cease of pleasure pulled a yowl of protest from his lips even as his mazed mind tried to break through the frustration and excitement to remind him that it was a good thing that it had stopped.  
Draco’s body was not listening. He very much wanted the blow job to continue now to his completion. He demanded as much without thinking and collected only a soft nasty laugh from the older wizard for it. 

“Make the oath. I’m not asking much of you, Draco.. simply that you let me into your chambers when I call on you. Really – the benefit is overwhelmingly in your favour. I will protect you from all the others... I’ll show you pleasures you’ve not tasted... If you refuse, I’ll take you anyway and I’ll show no mercy while I do it. Then I’ll take you apart with curses and implements. The muggle boy at the revel will be nothing in comparison. By nightfall you’ll be begging for release from this world. And i’ll grant it. No one will ever even find your body.”

Sobering from his arousal, Draco shivered as the terror crept back in from the edges of his mind, devouring everything again.

“But it doesn’t have to be that way” Travers smirked. “I’d consider taking my time with you.. easing you into it – I’d even be...gentle... the first few times-..” the word was pronounced with a sneer of distaste as the other wizard stroked his fingertips down the line of Draco’s jaw. “-if you willingly submitted yourself to my..care.”

Draco tried to think. It was beginning to seem like agreeing was the best option and he knew that that wasn’t the case. He needed to find a way out of this. There had to be a way to escape.   
He couldn’t think of any though. He couldn’t contact anyone, the Dark Lord included, while Travers had his wand. He couldn’t even move with his hands bound to the floor like this. He was utterly at the sadistic wizard’s mercy. It was appalling.

“I..” he started uncertainly. The dark haired wizard flashed a sharp white smile and gestured for him to continue.

“You’ll let me go now if I do?” he tried again. 

With a snort Travers shook his head. “ If you stop wasting my time and agree now, I will let you choose whether I’ll have your mouth or your arse now.”

It felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach hard. He wasn’t going to get away. Travers was going to fucking force him. There wasn’t really any choice at all – if he refused, it’d be worse and then he’d be killed. 

“Damn you” he muttered despairingly. “I.. I’ll.. my mouth, alright? Not-..” he trailed off. It was still possible that he might find some way to stop Travers before he could come to whatever room the Dark Lord assigned Draco and assault him. “But you can finish sucking me off first then!”

This received another darkly amused laugh.

“I will. For a price.”

Draco swallowed. He didn’t even need to ask. Whatever it was – he wouldn’t like it. “What bloody more do you want?!”

The answer was as surprising as it was disturbing.

“Nothing painful. A kiss – freely given, not taken by force.”

He shook his head. He couldn’t – wouldn’t do that. He didn’t want to do the..other thing that Travers was going to make him do. Kissing the bastard would make it all a thousand times worse.   
“Forget it. I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want your mouth anywhere near me again. Let’s just get this over with.”

A raised eyebrow and half smirk  
“No. This won’t be rushed. I want to enjoy it. Swear now. On your magic – that you won’t reveal anything that happened this morning from the moment you saw me to the moment that I leave, and that you’ll let me into your chambers whenever I call on you.”

Seeing no way around it, he made the oath and felt the sharp tingle as the magic caught his words and made the promise binding. In the next moment, Travers had risen nimbly to his feet and Draco found himself freed and hauled to his feet by his throat, only to be thrown down onto his knees at once. The angle forced him to look up the length of the other wizard’s body into his smirking face. 

“I don’t think I really need to explain exactly what I’ll do to you if you bite me...” Travers stated with a smirk even as he parted his robes and began to unbutton his trousers.  
What would Travers do if he bit him?! Curse him? Curse his teeth out maybe? He didn’t think so, somehow. No.. more likely he’d revert to his original plan to take Draco’s arse.   
There was no way that was happening!!  
Draco swayed on his knees queasily, suddenly painfully aware of facing Potter in the reverse of this position only days ago.   
He really didn’t want to do this. Being forced to do it with Travers was somehow even worse than it might have been if he’d ended up having to do it to Potter at some point.

Fuck... He cursed at the sight of the organ the older wizard retrieved from his trousers. Of course he would have to be big too. 

The coffee-eyed man above him stroked himself lazily, obviously enjoying the repulsion and trepidation on the younger wizard’s face. He was already hard and the head of his cock was dark red with eagerness. A pearly white droplet hung poised at the slit. It was at Draco’s eye level. 

Travers tilted the meaty weapon down toward Draco’s lips, provoking an uncomfortable sickened gulp and panicking darting eyes.

“Open...” 

When no compliance was forthcoming, the brown haired wizard’s hand snaked out quickly and buried itself in the hair at the back of Draco’s head, gripping painfully and holding him in place as the cock was forced against his tightly closed lips. Draco grimaced and closed his eyes.

“And there I thought you were finally being reasonable. Open your fucking mouth, Draco!”

There was a faint crack. Suddenly, with a soft sizzle, the hand gripping his hair was torn away. A meaty thud resounded a half second later. Draco tore his eyes open to find – joy of joys!! - his uncle’s younger brother Rabastan standing in the open doorway, his wand was raised and there was an expression of shocked fury on his face.   
He and Rabastan had never had much to do with one another. The wizard was probably in his early thirties, he looked little older than Travers himself. In contrast to Draco’s uncle Rodolphus’ appearance, Rabastan had lighter, chestnut brown, messy shoulder length hair and his blue eyes were a paler shade. He was more heavily muscled than his older brother, his build squarer.   
Draco’s few impressions of Rabastan prior to the revel, in which he’d observed the two Lestrange brothers sharing a muggle who faintly resembled Granger, were of a restless wizard who continually fiddled with the wicked knives he kept in sheaths on either side of his belt. Rabastan tended to be quiet and gave the impression of disinterest and inattention. Draco had exchanged less than a dozen words with him over the course of his entire life – admittedly this was probably largely due to the fact that for the majority of the time the wizard had been, along with his uncle and aunt, locked away in Azkaban.   
He had learned from his father, who had been drinking and somewhat melancholic that evening, that Rabastan had – before his incarceration – been a bright, funny youth – full of bawdy jokes and cheek. His father had liked him very much. He’d said, sadly, that afterward, Rabastan had seemed a mere shadow of himself, trailing after his older brother and only stirring to liveliness when engaged in violence.  
Rabastan seemed quite lively right now in fact. His blue eyes were glowing with something unreadable – more than anger, it resembled almost indignation.

He turned his head just in time to see Travers climbing lithely back onto his feet from where he had landed after the other wizard’s curse had thrown him against the far wall. His wand was levelled steadily on the interloper.

“Stand down Rab – Your assistance is not needed or wanted. Draco and I have come to an understanding. He agreed to the act you interrupted. Back off or I will-“

Draco didn’t find out what Travers would- because Rabastan threw a curse and then Draco was suddenly in the middle-ground of an all-out duel between the two wizards. He threw himself flat on the floor and covered his head, hoping to avoid being hit. 

“You think I believe that bullshit Benji?!” Rabastan snarled between curses. “Find another boy. Draco’s not for you.”  
This only seemed to provoke Travers even more. He threw a number of vicious dark curses in quick succession, one of them actually managing to hit Rabastan. He himself had repelled, countered and danced out of the way of everything fired at him. It was clear to Draco, watching them both, that Travers was a far better dueller than Rabastan.   
The wizard in question was now clutching his abdomen with one arm and trying to hold his own against a merciless onslaught. Draco was beginning to believe that his father might have been right about the ‘dangers’ he could be in here. Rabastan was not weak or unskilled. Draco certainly couldn’t beat him on a good day. There was no way that he himself would have stood a chance against Travers even in a fair duel.  
And he’d promised to let the wizard into his chambers whenever he came calling.   
Fuck.

“Leave, or I’ll summon him!” Rabastan finally threatened in desperation.

Travers bared his teeth in a snarl. “You’d do that to me?! It’s just a fucking blowjob. Brat agreed to it! You’d make an enemy of me for a spoiled little cocktease you barely know?!”

The younger Lestrange seemed to deliberate on the question for a long minute.   
“He’s family” came the eventual answer. “Don’t force me to go that far. Just walk away and no one has to find out about this. Draco won’t squeal and we’ll all just pretend it never happened. The Dark Lord doesn’t have to know.”

Travers eyes narrowed hatefully and then his gaze shifted to Draco, cowering on the floor, his robes draped loose over him.   
A smug little half smirk twisted the corner of his lips abruptly.

“Fine. You win Rab. We’ll all pretend it never happened. You won’t tell anyone.. agreed?”

A hesitant nod was given. 

Travers smirk widened and he looked back to Draco and offered him a slight nod. “Alright then. But be sure you don’t forget, little Malfoy..”  
With a soft crack he was gone.

Draco felt like his innards had been replaced with ice. He turned back to find that Rabastan had subsided onto one knee and was having trouble breathing.   
With difficulty he dragged himself up on numb limbs and crawled across the floor to his saviour’s side, uncaring how it might look with his robes open as they were.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Draco?!” Rabastan hissed breathlessly. “No.. nevermind.. Need Dolph.. get.. get help. I don’t know this curse..”

Get Rodolphus? Draco realised with panic that Travers still had his wand. He couldn’t apparate.

Rabastan collapsed then, slumping and falling down onto his side. Draco took the opportunity to grab the wizard’s wand from his limp hand. It didn’t respond well – it felt like trying to push his magic through a jar of treacle, but he succeeded in apparating them both back to Malfoy manor. A house elf was sent to fetch Rodolphus urgently.

The wizard himself apparated in through the open apparition point mere moments later, his wand drawn, looking alert and wary. When he saw a disordered near-naked Draco kneeling next to his brother Rabastan, who was lying prone on the floor, he flew to his side, throwing frantic questions.   
Draco gaped and sputtered helplessly, finding himself literally incapable of revealing anything more about the situation than that he had been at the Dark Lords manor and had apparated Rabastan back to Malfoy manor when he was injured. Thankfully - after a couple of minutes of Rodolphus trying countercurse after countercurse, Rabastan’s body relaxed slightly, the tight pinched expression fading from his unconscious face.   
Draco’s uncle relaxed too, visibly relieved. He stroked his younger brother’s hair in a way that seemed both affectionate and protective. The peace lasted only moments before he seemed to remember what exactly Draco had told him and rounded on him, glaring and demanding further explanation for why he had been at the Dark Lord’s manor and what in Hades had happened to Rabastan.

“I.. The Dark Lord said that I”

“I know that he wants you to brew now that Snape is round the twist – What the hell happened and what the fuck were you doing there at this hour of the morning?! Where was Lucius?! I knew you were a fool, Draco but I thought you would have some sense of self preservation. Who was it?! What did they do?!”

Draco sputtered and stilled, his eyes glancing away resentfully.

“Elf!” Rodolphus demanded imperiously. A small cowed house elf popped into the room and shuffled its feet nervously.  
“Where is Lucius?” the wizard demanded of it.   
The elf seemed to become even more frightened and started to shake, wringing its hands.

“Master is being in-in-dips-sposed” it recited as if it had been told to respond in that manner. Draco was quite sure it had. His father would hardly allow the elves to reveal that he was busy pickling himself or already passed out drunk in his chair.

“Get-“

“NO!!” Draco interjected desperately. “Uncle – please! Don’t get him. He.. he doesn’t know I left. We had a..disagreement when I came home this morning and I.. It seemed like a good idea to go back to the Dark Lord’s manor and wait for our Lord to direct me to wherever he wants me to stay.”

“Draco – your father needs to know what has occurred. If you will not reveal it to me, you will tell him.”

“I can’t!” Draco spat miserably. “Don’t you understand?! I can’t! I’ll be a squib if you let him force me to tell him.”

Rodolphus actually paled. He dismissed the elf without hesitation and cast a muffling spell around them all.  
“You gave an oath? Are you mad?! This is far worse than I had thought. Something else happened?” He glanced down at Rabastan indecisively, seemingly considering waking him, and then huffed in frustration and cast a diagnostic spell on Draco instead. It revealed no damage. His uncle calmed slightly at the information that he had not been raped.   
“Was the oath solely not to speak of the events of the morning?” he asked then suspiciously. Draco could not answer but he managed to convey the truth in his despairing expression even so. Rodolphus cursed vehemently.

“Enervate” he muttered reluctantly, his wand aimed at the prone form of his brother. 

Rabastan jolted and then his eyes flicked open. He looked instantly wary and alarmed. Draco wondered how often he had been beaten or tortured and then enervated back to awareness.   
“Ro’” he mumbled, relieved and reached a hand for his brother. It was taken and grasped warmly by Rodolphus. 

“I wouldn’t have used the spell, brother, but it seems Lucius’ whelp can’t speak about what happened this morning before you were cursed. I need to know and couldn’t wait for you to recover.

Draco could see the memory flicker back into the blonde wizard’s awareness as the man grimaced. He kept his eyes downturned from his brother’s face.   
“Can’t tell you, Ro’ – agreed not to tell anyone about it. It was the only way. I think he would have killed me. Could see he was thinking about it. Had to get rid of him somehow. I didn’t know the curse and if I’d gone down – no one knew I was there and he’d have taken Draco.”

Rodolphus clasped his brother’s hand tighter and brushed the hand that held his wand over the younger wizard’s hair. He was visibly affected by the information that his brother might have been killed.

“Who was it?” he demanded urgently. Rabastan shook his head, looking away.   
Frustrated and furious, he tried again. “At least tell me what else the boy swore!”

This jolted Rabastan and the light blue eyes flicked in shock toward Draco. “You made an oath before I got there?!”

Draco shifted on the floor uncomfortably and couldn’t answer directly. 

“I’ve no idea, Ro” Rabastan answered. “When I arrived he was on his knees refusing to open his mouth.”

Rodolphus glanced at Draco with a troubled expression and nodded. “I’d thought it would be something along those lines. And it was someone who was able to overpower you.. which narrows down the suspects.”

“Don’t try to find out” Rabastan urged emphatically. “He’ll think I told you. And it doesn’t matter anyway. We’ll just have to make sure that Draco isn’t alone the next time he visits any of the open areas in the Dark Lord’s domain. Shouldn’t be that hard.” The blonde’s brow furrowed and he looked at Draco, perturbed – “What were you doing there this morning anyway?!”

Draco growled and folded his arms defensively but his response was cut off by Rodolphus. 

“It’s not so easy Rab – The Dark Lord has decided that Draco will reside in the Manor with the others from now on. Snape was ...injured... yesterday and Draco will be taking his place for a while. He’ll be in the Dark Lord’s domain all the time now.” 

It was with a weary expectation that he asked Draco whether he’d revealed this information to his attacker. Draco’s aversive silence and further deepening misery only confirmed what his uncle had suspected.

Rabastan was more affected by the news. His eyes widened and he tried to sit up, before Rodolphus pressed a hand to his shoulder and held him down.   
“No. Don’t move. I won’t have you worsening the injuries you already have. Draco has brought this upon himself with his own foolishness.”  
Draco’s eyes widened. His uncle was going to leave him to Travers?!   
The younger Lestrange frowned too and opened his mouth to protest. 

Rodolphus drew a deep breath and released it in an infuriated huff. “-But I will find a way to ensure he is protected, since it obviously bothers you to think of him paying for his own actions. Calm down now Rab.”

Both Draco and Rabastan calmed somewhat. “You better, Ro. He’s family.. We don’t have much of that left. Gotta protect family.”  
Rodolphus nodded vaguely and brought his wand gently to his brother’s temple. “I’ll do what I can. You have to sleep now, brother. When you wake, you’ll be fit again and we’ll talk more about this.”

Rabastan looked worried and gripped his brother’s hand more tightly but nodded grudgingly. Rodolphus’ expression softened into something approaching regret before he whispered a somnus.

When the blonde was resting peacefully again Rodolphus rounded on him. “My brother is worth ten of you, boy. You expect me to risk him to protect you? – and I suppose you also want me to keep the fact from the Dark Lord and your father?! It would be easier if you accepted whatever you have agreed to and grew up. Why should I put my own and Rabastan’s skin on the line for you?! You are the reason that Snape is destroyed – though he was always a traitorous dog, so it’s little real loss – You are the reason that that thrice damned mudblood is here polluting us all – polluting our Lord - with her taint. And you are responsible for whatever trouble you’ve gotten yourself into this morning.   
However.. my brother will be ...upset... if I don’t help you – so i’ll give you a choice. You can remain in your father’s manor and face the Dark Lord when he summons you. You can be escorted immediately to the Dark Lord and have him allocate you a room. Or – and it is much against my better judgement to offer this – you can return to our quarters with us and remain there for the present.

“Yes!” Draco responded immediately, without even needing to think about it. “Please! Please, Uncle! I regret leaving here alone this morning. I.. I was not thinking straight. I was angry. Help me!”

Rodolphus glared coldly, his lips pressed to a thin white line.   
“Wait here. I will return for you after I have put Rabastan to bed and spoken with the Dark Lord. You might consider what your father will think when he learns you are living in our quarters. He will of course find out – there’s no way to prevent that.”   
With a rueful glare, his uncle disapparated with the unconscious form of Rabastan, leaving Draco alone on the floor in the middle of the foyer of his father’s manor.

 

 

The tea was too sweet and his morning newspapers had not been brought to him. 

Lord Voldemort scowled blackly at the half grapefruit which he had intended to have for breakfast but now found he had no appetite for. It was proving to be an infuriating day already and he had no doubt that it would worsen before the day was over. There was an ominous heavy feeling to the air.

When he had awoken and had turned to Hermione, feeling warm, surprisingly content and seeking to slake his lust before he rose, she had quite effectively deflated his arousal by persistently pleading to hear about Severus until he had finally, in exasperation, told her that the man was unhinged and would likely need to be destroyed. Her horrified shock had irritated him further and he’d cruelly informed her of the test he’d submitted the potions master to the previous night and what exactly had remained of the polyjuiced muggle he’d left alone with the man.   
Then she had cried and he had experienced an unfamiliar nauseous feeling in his stomach.

It wasn’t guilt, obviously. He was merely sickened by her weakness. That was all. 

He had risen, showered and dressed, ignoring Hermione’s despondent expression and deafening silence, and had left his chambers to take breakfast with his death eaters in the dining room.   
It was not something he made a habit of – generally he preferred to have his mornings to himself, but this morning the busy chatter and noise was preferable to remaining in his own quarters with the girl.

Of course, he was finding that being here was rubbing across already exposed nerves. Some of his servants had unspeakable manners when dining and Avery’s braying laugh at Rowle’s unamusing anecdote was making his fingers itch to curse the man. The Lestrange brothers were absent, he observed with faint interest. Bella was sitting in Rodolphus seat at his immediate right while the two seats next to her remained empty – none of the others possessing the temerity to attempt to take the places in case the brothers were to arrive after all. 

His roving narrowed eyes drifted over his servants contemptuously.. and then drifted back quickly to land on Travers. 

The cold brown eyes of the young man were fixed on his own, the wizard’s incisive intelligence swirling unmistakeably in their depths. Travers – young Travers, who showed so much promise and who seemed to succeed in every endeavour that he was tasked – was scrutinising him.  
While such awareness was commendable under normal circumstances, it was unwelcome at present and bordering on impudence when applied to him. Lord Voldemort narrowed his eyes in challenge and though the young wizard lowered his gaze submissively, it rose again soon after in undiminished curiosity.   
Travers was both ambitious and resourceful. Such open appraisal from him required further consideration and monitoring. What was his current motive? He was distracted with his thoughts on the matter and thus did not immediately register when Bellatrix spoke to him.

It was likely a mix of shock and fascination at the ill-advised move on Bella’s part that silenced the rest and drew every death eater’s attention to the interaction playing out at the head of the table. He was certain that most of them were anticipating breakfast entertainment in the form of the witch’s writhing screaming body on the floor at his feet when he cursed her.

He could hardly respond to the effect that he had no idea what she had said. He blinked slowly, pinning her with a frosty gaze. She twitched in nervous apprehension and squirmed on her chair.

“We will speak later, Bella” he told her dismissively. 

Most of the table seemed to subside in disappointment. Travers, however, he noted, looked slightly amused. He was almost certain that he did not imagine the opportunistic glow that lit the young wizard’s eyes momentarily.

Having had enough, he was rising from the table when he was stirred by two very different calls.   
The faint awareness of his servant’s mark was informing him that Rodolphus was requesting an immediate audience with him. Meanwhile he could feel a strange unfamiliar sensation which he dimly identified as the naive fumbling attempts of Harry Potter to attract his attention in order to communicate with him.  
He swept a last glance over the dining table just in time to register the empty seat where Travers had been. The wizard was at his side and looking up at him with an intense expression made of equal parts devotion and wary respect. It reminded him, very slightly, of a snake charmer.   
It was of course entirely false – manufactured for the purpose of enlisting his immediate attention, nevertheless he found himself somewhat curious. What did the rising star among his death eaters desire this morning? 

Wordlessly he gave a slight nod of acquiescence, allowing the young man to accompany him as he walked back to his chambers. In the back of his mind the tug of Potter became slightly more pressing and he had the faint impression of aggravation from the boy. 

“Do not waste my time, Benjamin – what is it you seek?” Lord Voldemort cut to the chase, the moment they had passed the door to the corridor. He savoured the almost entirely suppressed grimace of the young wizard at hearing the name that he loathed being called by. Voldemort understood the sentiment well. Benjamin – or Benji, as some of the stronger death eaters liked to taunt him – was a rather common name; extensively used in the muggle world; it was a name that did not easily inspire fear and respect.   
Much like Tom.

The youth, who had won his position through intelligence, skill and sheer ruthlessness, hesitated, his lips parted slightly, as if considering exactly how to phrase himself.

“I have recently heard a rumour that my Lord’s potions master is...indefinitely indisposed. I was wondering if you might confirm that, my Lord...”

Voldemort frowned.   
Where had Travers had the opportunity to learn of that?! There were very few who knew of it – The Malfoys, Lestranges and the mudblood. Hermione had been locked away since the forbidden forest. He speculated on which of the Malfoys and Lestranges might have been foolish enough to allow their mouths to run away with them. Draco had left for his father’s manor, only returning for the revel and he had been in clear view up until the moment that Lord Voldemort himself had collected and apparated him elsewhere. He had had no opportunity to speak with others.   
Was Lucius foolish enough to share his worries with others..?  
No. No.. Lucius was too fond of Severus to risk allowing any other death eater to learn that he might be presently weakened and vulnerable to attack – and were he to speak, he would never share the information with Travers. The mutual animosity between Lucius and Benjamin was not lost on Lord Voldemort, though it had never particularly interested him exactly how the antipathy between the two had first begun. 

The Lestranges then.   
Bella seemed the most likely of the three. Rodolphus was too disciplined to accidentally share information and too loyal to reveal what he had been ordered to hold secret. Rabastan could be impetuous at times but he had been rather silent and withdrawn for the most part since his freedom from Azkaban.   
No.. Bella was probably to blame. He scowled. It was one more branch on the witch’s funeral pyre. Now, however, he appreciated that Rodolphus was requesting an audience – he could use the time to feel out the man’s probable reaction to becoming a widower.

“Why would Severus’ present occupation be of concern to you, Benjamin?” Voldemort wondered neutrally.

The cold brown eyes sparked brightly, reading a suggestion of confirmation in his Lord’s oblique avoidance of the question. His voice flowed softly and more smoothly now – like oiled silk. “I ask, my Lord, merely because I myself achieved an O in my Potions NEWT from Professor Snape not so very many years ago – You may or may not be aware that he offered me an apprenticeship at the time. I declined, choosing to apply myself officially in other fields, as you know – however I did continue my own independent studies in the subject. I may not be a potions master – and I will likely never possess the talent of my former teacher – however, upon hearing the rumours, I wanted to offer any assistance to you that I am capable of providing, should you need someone to brew for you in his absence, until a stronger replacement can be found.”

Lord Voldemort slowed his pace slightly without being aware of it. He had not known that Benjamin Travers possessed any particular skill in Potions. The boy had attended Hogwarts during the period in which he himself had been disembodied and possessing serpents in order to retain a semblance of sanity. It was obviously not something significant enough for Severus to mention over the time since the resurrection.   
Yes.. Benjamin was highly capable in every area to which he applied himself. The boy reminded him of his own younger self in some ways. The hunger.. the driving ambition.. that quick mind dancing behind the mask. He would almost certainly be more immediately useful than Draco would be. While young Malfoy was skilled in Potions – he was still very young. He had learnt little thus far - had not even completed his NEWT levels in the subject. He would be capable of brewing the basic staple potions needed – or most of them at least – but he would struggle on the more advanced requirements that were put upon Severus. 

Those might be taken up by Travers, perhaps.

On the other hand – if he enlisted his ‘rising star’ to brew for him, he would lose the youth as an emissary, negotiator and enforcer. He had thought to send Travers to the Americas in Dolohov’s stead after the latter’s recent arrest and subsequent rescue.   
Travers was useful. To assign him such a role would be a waste of his talents. It would be easier to find another halfway acceptable potions master than to find someone capable of navigating the treacherous waters of diplomatic coercion.

That was however NOT the most important issue. No – the true question was not whether or not to use Travers to brew, but why the wizard had offered. It was not a particularly prestigious position – although it could allow, on occasion, the opportunity to brew potions which Voldemort himself might consume, therefore - if the youth hoped to dispatch his master, it might be a desirable role.   
Other than that – it involved long, thankless hours, unpleasant menial tasks and little excitement.   
These were not attributes that an ambitious young death eater would gravitate toward. 

“I will consider your suitability, should I require assistance in that area” he replied thoughtfully. “At present I wish you to apply yourself to correcting Antonin’s recent failure. Speak with him and gather all the pertinent details. I will expect you to depart by this evening and return in time for the next meeting.”

The flash of frustrated annoyance that passed over the brown haired wizard’s face was very telling. Lord Voldemort filed away the information that, for unknown reason, young Travers very much desired to brew for him. Although the expression vanished in a split second and an eager and appreciative acceptance was offered in its stead, the Dark Lord was disquieted.   
If any were to be disloyal or to seek to supplant him, he would have preferred it not be Travers.

“I will make preparations to leave, my Lord” The younger wizard said quietly. “If the problem with Snape remains when I return, perhaps you might-“

It was foolish of the young man to continue on the matter, the Dark Lord criticised inwardly. If he had had any lingering temptation to make use of Traver’s brewing abilities, it was fading rapidly.

“Perhaps.” he snapped, cutting him off, his expression irritated. “You are beginning to try my patience, Benjamin. What exactly has motivated this sudden shift in your interests?! Speak plainly.”  
He could see that Travers himself had realised his error too now and was preparing to backpedal.

“It is no sudden shift, my Lord. I have always had an interest in-“

He did not expect Lord Voldemort to stop suddenly and loom over him, bearing him back hard against the wall of the corridor and fixing him in place.   
The young wizard had exceptional occlumentic walls. Not as comprehensive as those of the man whose shoes he seemed to be asking to fill, but formidable all the same. Lord Voldemort employed all force and skill in the attempt to shatter them and expose the true nature of his servant’s desire.

“My Lord!” Travers choked out in panic at the sudden assault on his mind. “...How.. have I..angered...you?!!”

“What are you hiding, Benjamin?” Lord Voldemort hissed into the younger man’s face. “Open your mind to me! Show me your true desires!”  
He pushed harder, increasing his pressure on the wizard’s mind, looking for chinks in the armour. 

“No!” The tight, breathless protest sounded pained. When Travers attempted to avert his eyes, a hastily hissed parselspell fixed them in place effectively.   
Lord Voldemort watched as two translucent tears tracked in parallel down his young servant’s face. It surprised him on some level. He had never seen Benjamin Travers display any visible sign of weakness. Not even under physical discipline.   
Pressing still more ruthlessly against the weakening occlumentic walls he caught a flicker of an image. It was a mere echo of a memory.. a faint filament of an idea.   
Blonde hair. A small pointed elfin face with large grey eyes.   
Unmistakeably Draco Malfoy, although a much younger version than the present one with which he was acquainted.   
The thought fragment was tinged with desire and impatient avarice.

Ah.

That would account for why an ambitious, ruthless young wizard might attempt to ingratiate himself into a position that he would find tedious.

It was possible that the thought was merely a cover for true treasonous intent however.   
He had to know now. He could not allow a potential threat to persist.

“Is it young Malfoy? Is that the reason?” Lord Voldemort asked softly, not relenting in his legilimentic assault. “He is an attractive boy, I concede. I would not fault your lust for him. Open your mind and show me the truth. I must see what you are attempting to hide from me.”

Slender brown eyebrows twitched and the younger wizard’s brow furrowed in visible indecision, his wide unblinking eyes watery and growing bloodshot.   
“Yes..” Travers whispered with difficulty. “..Draco.. ...I.. I..must have him...”

“Show me..” the Dark Lord soothed, a dark smile twisting the corners of his lips at the raw need in his servant’s voice.

“I.. I... won’t..” Travers gritted out with a steely edged determination again.

“You WILL!”   
Losing his temper, Lord Voldemort employed the full force of his magic to violently crush the shields around the younger wizard’s mind and gain access. He ignored the agonized screams and delved ruthlessly, carding through memories impatiently, looking for the indicators of deceit. More and more impatiently he searched, finding nothing – nothing of note. Benjamin Travers was completely loyal.. the young man was fascinated with him, and had made a few questionable observations – most recently that of this morning, namely that his Lord was bored and disgusted with many of his followers, particularly Bellatrix. However rather than troubling young Travers, the realisation had served to flatter his ego that he and the Dark Lord were similar, since he himself was often repulsed or infuriated by his fellow Death Eaters.   
Frustrated at finding nothing and concerned at why his servant might have been so insistent upon shielding his mind, Lord Voldemort broadened his search, drawing away from those thoughts and memories most directly connected with himself. He perused the younger wizard’s recent memories, where he, soon enough, found the epicentre of the man’s concern.   
Travers had, it seemed, told the truth when he admitted that he desired the role of potions master purely in order to have young Malfoy.   
The Dark Lord watched with mild interest as the events of the morning unfolded, culminating in Draco’s oath, his refusal to perform fellatio and then the interruption and swift incapacitation of the younger Lestrange brother. 

That explained Rodolphus’ urgent request for a meeting, he noted. Obviously Rabastan Lestrange still lived – he could still sense the faint awareness of his mark.   
Still.. it was useful to know what to expect when his most favoured servant came calling. From the events shown in the memory, it was probable that Rodolphus would not know who to blame for his brother’s injury. Rabastan was a murderer, torturer and rapist but he did respect agreements highly – as did most purebloods. He would not have revealed to his brother what he had agreed to conceal.

Out of interest - though he could feel Travers’ strength fading; the wizard would slip away into unconsciousness soon – he dug around in the young man’s mind more deeply, pulling out the core of the animosity with Lucius.   
Unsurprisingly it revolved around Draco. Lord Voldemort watched the twenty two year old Benjamin Travers, in the company of his father; one of Lucius’ associates – a supporter of the dark, though not a marked death eater – attending a gathering at Malfoy Manor. A tiny blonde boy, slender and elfin in form, with enormous silvery grey eyes, stood beside a younger Lucius, looking up at him with unmistakeable worship. Draco could not have been more than nine, Lord Voldemort considered.   
Lucius ignored his son entirely throughout his own conversation and it was only when the boy tentatively tried to join in the discussion, seeking his father’s attention and approval, that the blonde wizard turned in mild irritation and ordered him upstairs to bed.   
Draco was clearly hurt and embarrassed and it was likely the underlying motivation for the inappropriate argument he proceeded to have over going to bed. 

Within the memory, the mix of emotions that the observing Benjamin Travers felt were heady. Lord Voldemort could sense Benjamin’s understanding of the plight of the ignored and dismissed boy as well as his jealousy and contempt for Draco’s status within his family. Even if Lucius had responded harshly; the boy had been permitted to stand beside him and listen.. had been allowed to attend the soiree. Benjamin himself had been packed off with nannies and minders for most of his childhood. He had barely seen his own parents. He would have given anything to have had the opportunity to stand beside his own father, Algernon, and listen quietly while he spoke with colleagues.   
Finally, intoxicatingly.. curling and winding through the other reactions was a thick fog of guilty, avaricious desire. The hunger to possess the boy - to fill the loveless void in Draco’s childhood with his own affection and attention; to touch the silky perfect skin, taste the lips that no other had yet tasted, the tiny untutored tongue, the small organ - introducing the boy to physical pleasure; to force him, tear him, ruin him for daring to have what Benjamin himself never had; He desired to hear the soft piteous cries of pain and despair as he stole Draco’s innocence away forever.   
It was detectable that this was not the first such attraction that the young Travers had experienced toward underage wizards...toward children.. – there was a faint tinge of guilt and uncertainty but no sense of surprise. Lord Voldemort watched as Benjamin, led by his own unhealthy mores, drifted closer to the conflict between father and son and offered in an unconvincingly light tone to put Draco to bed, if Lucius would like.  
He was rebuffed with curt politeness bordering on accusation. Draco was sent to bed immediately with a house elf, while Benjamin looked on with disappointed frustration, still seeing before his mind’s eye the wide silvery eyes and pouty lips of the little white haired boy and vowing that he would have him at the first opportunity.

Having comprehended the situation sufficiently, the Dark Lord retreated from the mind of his servant.   
Travers was visibly damaged by the assault, it seemed; his dark brown eyes wide and blankly staring; his slender, high-boned cheeks hollow and tearstained. He was taking slow shallow breaths and the only thing holding him up was the grip of his master’s magic. 

With a soft tsk of irritation, Lord Voldemort summoned a house elf to convey Travers to his room and fetch the healer. Lacking Severus, the potions that might have restored Travers quickly and efficiently were unavailable and it was not certain that Draco would be capable of brewing them to the necessary standard. Moreover – if the youngest Malfoy were to know for whom he was brewing, it was entirely possible that he just might slip up intentionally and substitute a lethal ingredient.   
After everything, knowing that Benjamin Travers was entirely loyal, Voldemort was disinclined to lose his excellent services and was regretting the heavy hand he had taken with his mind. The young man was hardly unique among his servants in his appetites for innocent flesh – and Draco’s recent coercion was not necessarily something that he himself would have to involve himself in.   
At least not at first.   
Perhaps not at all, if Draco ceased resisting and resigned himself to his new circumstances.   
He doubted that the brat.. the occasionally useful brat.. would be so obliging.

It was merely one more infuriating thing in a generally infuriating day. The Dark Lord had no doubt that responding to Potter or Rodolphus would prove even more irritating. There were almost certainly other wretched complications of which he had not yet had the misfortune to learn.   
Nevertheless, glaring balefully as he stalked down the corridor toward his chambers, he activated the link with the captive saviour of the wizarding world who had been nagging at the back of his mind since he had left the dining room.

“What, Potter?! What do you want?! You do realise that I have more important things to do than listen to you snivel in my mind!”

The response took almost a minute. To his own consternation, Lord Voldemort was beginning to grow concerned that something had happened to the brat while he was earlier preoccupied. He was about to widen the link to try to determine whether the boy was unconscious when the faint petulant voice wavered through his mind.

“Forget it then. I won’t bother you again.”

Now he wasn’t certain whether Potter might have had something of value to communicate to him. The tone of snit seemed to suggest it. He struggled to rein his own tense aggravation in and persuade the boy back to a more cooperative state.

“You must have intended to speak with me for some reason. You interrupted me at a rather inconvenient moment. I am, however, listening now. Do stop being childish.”

“I’m not being childish” the peevish tone spat childishly. “What were you doing that was so important?!”

“None of your concern. Get on with it, Potter. Unlike yourself – I do not have all day to waste.”

“Fuck you, Snake face! I must have been insane to want to tell you in the first place. Get the hell out of my head!”

Voldemort rolled his eyes, finding himself tempted to give the brat what he wanted and get on with his day. Unfortunately he was more sure than ever that whatever Potter had wished to tell him was almost certainly something he would want to know. Struggling for the last vestiges of his patience, he forced himself to remain calm and moderate the insults his mind itched to dispense.

“Must you be incessantly difficult, Potter?! – You attempted to contact me while I was dealing with a defiant and potentially disloyal servant. Another was also trying to contact me urgently via the dark mark at the same time. The former is now incapacitated – possibly permanently, and I have not yet spoken with the latter and thus cannot be certain what manner of emergency prompted him to seek me out at this early hour. As you see – I chose to attend to YOU first. Kindly desist in your tantrum and tell me whatever you intended to tell me when you attempted to summon my attention earlier.”

He waited...

Finally there came a faint uncertain voice.

“You really weren’t ignoring me? You’re putting off hearing about something urgent right now?”

Voldemort sighed long sufferingly, impatience twisting like a living thing in him. He felt certain that at least the sigh must have communicated itself across the link because Potter, miraculously, began speaking – and in a much firmer businesslike tone.

“There’s several things. First - I remember a lot more now. Most things, I think. You might have been right. They might have given me something. A potion or something like that. I stopped eating and drinking and things got less foggy. Second - I don’t have my wand. Dumbledore kept it. He came and talked to me for hours, trying to get me to see that Draco had used some spell on me to control my mind. I guess I can’t be sure but I don’t think he did...”

“No. I very much doubt it..” Voldemort agreed. “He was authorised only to seduce you, and that only because you had seemed somewhat receptive when he coerced you into fellatio – I might add that that first event was entirely Draco’s initiative. It would not have occurred to me that you might respond to an advance from him, with or without blackmail involved.”

There was silence again for a moment and the Dark Lord had the vague distant impression of melancholy and confusion.

“I was lonely.”  
The voice was as faint as a whisper. He could not be sure but he suspected that Harry had thought it to himself and had not intended it to be communicated.   
It was not new information – Draco had informed him as much through his memories, nevertheless, Lord Voldemort found himself strangely intrigued by the notion that his enemy, valid reason for contacting him notwithstanding, may have simply desired to communicate with someone and had no opportunities to do so in his physical environment at present.

“Draco is well. He cannot return to Hogwarts, obviously, but he will receive schooling here and will gain his NEWTs with Hermione.”  
Frowning, as he waved open the door to his chambers, he pondered why he had chosen to tell Harry such a useless fragment of information.

“Hermione is going to get her NEWTs there?! With you?! Why would you do that? You never answered before but when Dumbledore came he went on about her too for ages. He said she’d betrayed me long before she went missing. It’s not true, is it?! He was lying again!”

Lord Voldemort closed the door behind himself quietly, taking in the girl in question as she sat curled in an armchair reading a thick black text with a pensive expression on her face. She glanced up at him at the snick of the door closing. Her eyes were wide and troubled, searching him for a sign that he was still annoyed and seeming to find it.

“I do not know why I am inclined to be generous to the girl” he conveyed truthfully to the anxious boy. “She will gain her NEWTs for many reasons. It is possible that she may not have done so if Draco had not been obliged to reside here permanently. They were not necessary before. However I will not allow Draco Malfoy to consider himself superior to her. Therefore she will complete her NEWTs as he does and will exceed his level of achievement.”

“Why would you care if Draco feels superior?!! You want to kill all muggleborns, don’t you?!!” Harry sounded incredulous and even a little panicked now.

“Perhaps at one time I may have desired that.. some decades in the past. Over time, I have come to the conclusion that power, ability, intelligence and skill are of far greater relevance than blood purity. Draco shall not be allowed to condescend to Hermione because..”

He broke off, considering the answer that he had been about to give. ‘because she is an extension of myself and I will not tolerate his condescension. Because she is mine and reflects upon me – She must be better than all others. She must be worthy of being viewed as my choice.’

“It is irrelevant” he finished curtly. “She is here, incidentally – reading an advanced arithmancy text at present. Is there anything you would particularly like to convey to her?”

He felt a faint quiver in his mind that he identified as Harry’s shock. The boy seemed to ponder for a while.

“Is what Dumbledore said true? When did she first betray me? and Why? Why didn’t she come to me and tell me about whatever was wrong? What made her go to you? Does she want me dead?! Why??! What did I do?!”

The plaintive tone almost made him want to sever the connection. None of the questions that the boy had asked would produce the answers he most desperately wanted. Most of them, Voldemort could answer without recourse to asking the girl.

“What do you wish to hear, Harry? That Hermione did not choose me over you; that she is held here against her will; that she was placed under a geas and forced to come to me? Or abducted? Would you like to hear that I am torturing her? Sharing her with my servants? Would you like to hear that she is a slave or a whore?”

“NO!!”

Lord Voldemort smirked wanly at the horrified outburst in the back of his mind.

“No! I.. I..want her to be ok.. I want her to get her NEWTs and-...” The voice trailed off again in sorrow and confusion.  
“I just don’t understand. What did I do?! Why did she leave me?! I.. I...-“ Although the boy seemed to think better of continuing, the word ‘love’ was a sour taste in the Dark Lord’s mind. He found something inside him clenching in petulant anger at the thought of Harry Potter expressing feelings toward the mudblood that belonged only to him now.

“Spare me your self pity, boy. She is mine! She came to me full of desire and adoration and I...graciously.. deigned to take her. In every sense of the word.”

The distant reaction to this felt like electric spikes of emotion in his mind. There were no words, merely sharp painful emotions.

“Hermione..” he purred softly, gliding closer to the girl still curled on the chair and feeling suddenly better than he had all morning. “Come to me”

The expression on the small pretty face displayed the confusion that his little pet-preoccupation was feeling at his inexplicable shift in mood. Suspicion and anxiety flickered in the soft caramel brown eyes. Nevertheless, where Lucius might have delayed with a stuttered ‘my Lord?’ and Bella might have simpered and grovelled, expecting punishment, Hermione simply nodded, wordlessly accepting whatever might happen and slipping from the chair, leaving the book on the arm, and pacing quietly to stand before him. 

Reaching for her, he trailed cold fingers up the outside of her arms, noting that the warm black silken robe she wore was his own – the same robe which Severus had adjusted to fit her on the morning after she had been recovered from Dumbledore’s clutches. He knew well that she had her own clothing. There was no other reason for her to don this robe, other than that it was his..   
Or.. perhaps.. because it reminded her of Severus?  
That thought dimmed his gratification somewhat. Was the girl pining over Severus? Did she prefer him?  
No. No.. he had tasted the girl’s mind.. her attraction.. her adoration. The emotions there for Severus were a dim candle in comparison. 

“Kneel” he murmured, allowing his eyes to roam over her with desire, making his intentions known.

The relief and eager joy his pet displayed when she recognised what he wanted from her was pleasing. On a sadistic whim, the Dark Lord allowed the sensory information to filter through to the small disembodied awareness in the back of his mind that was Harry Potter. The soft feathery flutter of the small girl’s fingertips on the front of his robe as she parted it; her wide delighted..honoured..eyes flicking between the organ just above eye level and Voldemort’s face gazing down at her in placid absorbed anticipation.

He could feel the distant horrified reaction of the boy who lived and it was delicious. It was even more delightful than it had been to infiltrate the boy’s dream. Oh, he could sense that Harry was uncertain whether to believe what he was perceiving; whether it might not be simply a fiction intended to disturb him – but even so, rather than the certainty that he was dreaming – Potter had to consider that this image might be actually taking place.

“Stop!!” The near hysterical voice rang out sharply in his mind. He smirked inwardly. 

Harry..Harry... It seems that we have been here before. You enjoyed what I showed you last time, did you not?!. Do not take for granted the generosity I am demonstrating by sharing this moment with you. It is the closest that you will ever come to intimacy with the witch. You may watch. Perhaps.. if you are persuasive enough... if you can offer me anything of use...I may consent to allow you to perceive some of the sensation also. The witch is quite able in this capacity. And so young..and eager to please. 

He could feel the rage and pain of his enemy like a faint thunderstorm in the back of his mind. 

“I’m going to kill you” came the soft determined hiss. “I’m going to fucking kill you!! And then..” the voice wavered in uncertainty. 

Through the distracting pleasurable sensation the girl was evoking with lips and tongue, Lord Voldemort experienced a faint chill. The off-balance feeling of a significant error made. The venom in the brat’s voice was greater than he had ever heard from him in the past – even in the last dream in which he had taunted the boy with the mudblood’s rape. In rising concern he pushed Hermione’s head away from his groin absently and stepped back, tucking himself back inside his robes and turning all of his attention to the faint shiver of a presence in his mind.

Harry – he started in as conciliatory a tone as he could manufacture.

“Don’t talk to me anymore. I don’t want to hear your voice – I don’t want to know what you’re doing. Just.. just.. fuck off, Voldemort!”

The tenuous link faded to almost nothing. Whatever his ineptitude in occlumency in the past, Harry was obviously trying his best in that discipline in the present moment. Voldemort cursed inwardly.   
He had won only one point from Dumbledore in the standoff in the forbidden forest – and that had been the access to Potter’s mind once more. Now, he was certain he had quite capably pissed it away through his own unwise...even petty... reaction to the sensation in his mind of the boy’s love and devotion for the mudblood.  
He could not persuade himself that he had truly imagined he might seduce the boy into giving in to his own darker desires in that manner. No – on some level he had known with certainty how the ridiculously noble little Gryffindor would react.   
WHY had he thrown aside the considerable progress he had made with the boy?! Harry had approached him..offering personal information.. he was becoming more malleable to persuasion.  
The answer was equally obvious. That. Mudblood.   
She was weakening him! Causing him to behave irrationally...emotionally.. He had lost one valuable servant already because of her and only this morning had been thinking to execute another.  
This was unacceptable! The mudblood could not be argued to be anything other than a threat; a honey trap. He would not allow this foolishness to continue!

With narrowing eyes he spun on his heel, refocusing his attention upon the small girl, still on her knees before him wearing an expression of confused hurt.

His wand was in his hand before he even thought and he found himself looking down its length at the wide, shocked brown eyes.

“What.. what did I do?!” she asked plaintively.

The word was in the forefront of his mind already; was pressing itself past his lips in a furious hiss.

“Crucio!”


	25. Chapter 25

The mudblood screamed. 

Distantly, he found himself surprised. Her cries were high pitched and mindless and he realised that he had not previously heard them so. Her only shrieks thus far had been in pleasure. The last times Bella had cursed her, she had endured admirably. She was certainly comporting herself quite pitifully now.

He ignored the small thoughtful inner observation that she had recovered from the effects of this curse only this morning, and was likely to be particularly susceptible while her nerves remyelinated.

No. It was weakness.

His own, and now this creature also. Had he thought her worthy?! Clearly his mind had been addled. Furious, he watched her writhe and claw, tearing her nails on the flagstones, and ignored the growing ache in the pit of his own stomach. It meant nothing. He needed to cut away this disease from his person before it spread further. He did not care for anyone. He certainly did not need anyone – least of all a little mudblooded slip of a girl prone to developing ideas above her station.

And then something moved in his mind. A small wriggling foreign panic. The brat. Was he aware of this? Was he panicking for another reason perhaps? 

“Stop!! Are you - Is that - Please! Please stop! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it. Please!!!”

He sneered and narrowed his eyes, hanging indecisively on the knife edge between breaking off the curse and giving the boy a chance to grovel further, and throwing wide open the mental link as he twisted his hand the few decisive degrees to destroy the witch utterly. …and then it was as if he suddenly surfaced from a black pit of emotion, his mind clearing abruptly. The boy was begging and Hermione was sobbing softly on the floor

“Please… Please – I’ll do anything! I – Please don’t hurt her anymore!!”

The voice in his mind sounded defeated and desperate.

His anger had abated as quickly as it had arrived, and now in its wake he felt a sickening sense of being off-balance. He had cursed Hermione. Why. He wasn’t entirely sure. He had simply been incandescent with fury suddenly and it revolved around her. It made no sense to him now, and that disturbed him more than anything else. Why had he cursed her? What could it achieve to damage her?!

He pulled himself together and responded to the boy bleating in fear in his mind. 

“I had thought you were not willing to converse with me any further, Potter. Something on your mind?”

It was petty, but he couldn’t allow the boy to perceive his current disarray.

Was Harry crying? He could feel long slow painful emotions across the link. 

“I…I don’t understand” the boy choked out eventually in his mind. And then it seemed as if the floodgate had opened fully as mazed distressed thoughts flooded the Dark Lord’s mind like a blaring radio. “I don’t understand! I don’t understand!! Why would you - I don’t understand. I don’t understand you! You were just taunting me about having her and – I don’t understand!! Why?! WHY would you do that?!! She wasn’t doing ANYTHING. She was – don’t think about that. Don’t think about that. Hermione!! Don’t hurt her! Please please please – anything- don’t hurt her anymore”

“POTTER!” he snapped after a couple of minutes of this babble had passed with little new content. “CALM YOURSELF. AT ONCE! I refuse to-”

A gentle warm pressure at his bare feet caused him to look down.

The girl. While he had been preoccupied, she had evidently dragged herself over to curl at his feet, shaking and pitiful.

He heaved a painful sigh as his last fraying nerve barely held together. 

And yes. Of course – there was the irritating call from the elder Lestrange back again also. Naturally. He gave it a mental flick of dismissal, seriously tempted to just toss everything aside and go and kill someone. 

Instead he took a breath and focussed to reduce the volume of the desperate blaring blubber Harry was still making in his mind. When he felt he could think again, he bent slowly to gently pick up the mess of teenaged girl at his feet.  
She twitched and remained passive, but large caramel eyes were wide and beseeching – a visual accompaniment to the panicked confused orchestra of sound and emotion he was getting from the boy who lived to be a problem to him. 

Carefully he swept her up, holding her gently curled against him until he could let them both down carefully in his favourite chair.

He barely suppressed the heavy sigh he wanted to give and spoke first to Hermione.

“I should…perhaps… not have cursed you.”

He tried to ignore how the voice in his mind was now switching between desperate pleading and soft incredulous repetition of the word Perhaps?!! as if Harry wanted to be furious but was too afraid that any resistance on his part at all would lead to further torture”

Hermione’s voice was a scratchy whisper from her screams.  
“Why did you? I – I don’t understand. Did I do-“

He stroked the hair away from her face and shook his head slightly.  
How should he answer. It grated against him to give the truth and acknowledge his error out loud.

But then… Hermione would certainly not judge him, and admitting a fault would throw the boy off balance. It was worth it.

“No. No – you did nothing… I was extremely pleased with you in fact, until – “ he broke off, unsure what the girl’s reaction might be to finding that Harry Potter now had a very clear idea of the intimate nature of their relations. It would likely be upsetting for her and her distress would necessitate further tedious soothing on his part.

“I am…finding this morning somewhat challenging” he told her instead, obliquely. After a pause, he added reluctantly “It infuriates me to have to concede that I have made several foolish choices since waking today, and you were simply the closest target for my rage at recognising them.”

Faint understanding and relief dawned in the girl’s eyes, although the curiosity did not fully dissipate.

He could feel Harry listening, and opened the link slightly wider as the boy’s noise had dropped away somewhat. He may as well win some points with Harry for ‘sharing’. Salazar knew that it was the coin of Gryffindors.

“…I am troubled about Severus. I do not know whether I will be able to remove whatever programming Dumbledore has placed in his mind solely using legilmentic arts, without destroying his mind itself. And it is ironic that a potions master could potentially be of great help in restoring my potions master, yet I severely damaged one of my most promising servants less than an hour ago, and one who might have been capable of offering assistance.”

Harry’s immediate worry and wish to know more about Severus was like a small bird fluttering frantically in his head. Hermione, in contrast, already understood in broad strokes the problem with Severus, so her curiosity revolved around what had happened to the servant who might have helped. To her credit she did not ask, but merely looked up at him silently conveying curiosity and interest. He chose to answer her curiosity rather than Harry’s, since it would be bizarre for him to explain it to her again as if for the first time, and he rather preferred her not to realise that Harry was, in a sense, with them both right now. …No need to poke at that small rotten pocket of guilt she was working to overcome.

“He was behaving unusually. He sought me out at breakfast and expressed an interest in taking over Severus’ role for me. As he is already engaged in highly sensitive work for me – work that he enjoys and which is a greater challenge for him, I acknowledged it but paid it little heed. However he pressed the subject and I was obliged to wonder what might suddenly motivate a highly intelligent, not to say ambitious and merciless, servant to abruptly desire to work in such an area.”

He added, to make it utterly transparent to the twit at the other end of the mental link, “I had to wonder whether he may have designs on poisoning me”

There was a satisfying little jolt in his mind, though he couldn’t identify whether it was a frisson of horror or delight that coloured the boy’s shock.

Hermione looked mildly unsettled “is that likely? I thought the mark prevented any of them from betraying you”  
He gifted her with a pleased appraising smirk. “that is true…to an extent” he confirmed. “but you yourself should realise that to an enterprising mind, much can be made of minor loopholes”

The twinge of sadness in the back of his mind reminded him to reign himself in a little more.

“so, quite reasonably, I sought to verify his loyalty in his mind. …Unfortunately, he was not as inclined to open his mind to me as a loyal servant should be, which was, of course, still more suspicious. Only after forcefully tearing down his occlumentic walls and sifting through his memories did I uncover that he was completely loyal and his wish to take on Severus’ role had nothing at all to do with any intent to harm me or our cause.”

He narrowed his eyes solicitously as the girl in his arms twitched.

Damn.

And she had been so tedious the last time she had been immobilised under the aftereffects, too.

“What did he want to work in potions for then?” Hermione unfortunately chose this moment to voice her curiosity. Unfortunately, because he did not think that clarifying Benjamin’s designs on Draco Malfoy would be particularly helpful to the end of restoring tentative friendly relations with Harry.

“Perhaps I shall tell you later” he conceded gently. “Now however, I must leave you for a moment whilst I debase myself to the level of a house-elf, to retrieve the cruciatus potion for you. I have always suspected Severus refuses…refused, I suppose… to label them, precisely in order to prevent real house elves from distinguishing between them accurately. No doubt the man would be satisfied that he makes life difficult even in his convalescence.”

He rose slowly, thinking to deposit her on the sofa, but changed his mind, carrying her instead into the bedroom. No reason why she should not be immobilised in the interim.  
She seemed to realise this halfway across the threshold if her horrified expression was any indication.

“Yes… It is about to be unpleasant again. …I do regret my temper, Hermione.”

She shook her head slightly and seemed to pull herself up by her bootstraps. “I…I know what it will be like now. It’s horrible. Almost unbelievably awful - but I’ll try not to snivel quite as much this time.”

He felt that little spark of intrigue and admiration for her flare up again unwillingly. 

“I shall not be long.”

He stared down at her as he cast the partial petrificus upon her wordlessly, wondering whether he could improve things for her somewhat. It was not an area he had much bothered with in the past. Generally when he cursed someone, he wished them to remain in pain and think about their mistake. But perhaps he could give her some distraction.

A gentle beckoning of his fingers had her book floating in. It was a small thing to charm it to float above her. As an afterthought he added another charm to allow her to turn the page at a command.

Her impressed and thankful expression when he explained this function to her was quite gratifying even if he derided himself inwardly for being a sot.

He put it from his mind and, with a brisk half turn, found himself at once in Severus’ potions storeroom. 

“I still don’t understand you” Harry’s voice whispered in his mind. “what’s wrong with you? One minute you’re using her just to be a vicious prick to me, the next it’s like you’re off your head and want to kill her, and now you’re acting weirdly nice to her again.”

The Dark Lord pursed his lips and tried to quiet his mind. Responding as he might wish to would not serve his purpose right now.

“and I don’t understand her either!! You cursed her. You tortured her – and it’s like she’s just so happy you’re not angry with her. What’s wrong with her?! You must have done something to her. Hermione’s not like that! She wouldn’t kill someone and just go on as if nothing happened. She wouldn’t let herself be treated how you treat her. She…she wouldn’t just-”

“Harry…”

The anxious rant in his mind stilled and he could feel the boy listening. It was gratifying to have moved the boy so far so quickly. He needed to consolidate the progress he’d made.

“It was…childish…of me to provoke you earlier”

The words, even if only in his mind, were like chewing broken glass.

“Hermione is…” he hesitated. “It was unexpected when she came to me. I expected it no more than you yourself. But I viewed her mind. She…”  
did he want to tell the boy? Well no – no he didn’t, but it was perhaps necessary for him to understand.

“You may not have realised that she was studying me. Researching my past. Developing her understanding of the enemy, if you will. In the beginning, she was doing this in order to help you defeat me. But she spent so long alone in her examining, and had so little natural interest in the forms of entertainment that her friends, yourself included, found engaging - that she came to develop a fascination with the subject of her studies. I viewed her memories. Guilt-ridden though she was, she knew of many things that I have done, and without realising it she began to imagine all that I might teach her. It was not for any cause in the war that that she came to me; rather, she was drawn by her own insatiable wish to learn.”

There. It was a half-truth, but it should be more palatable to the boy. He waited for him to digest the idea.

“...so it was our fault – my fault? She got sucked into some kind of obsession with you and we were all too busy and didn’t notice?  
…God. She was always sitting somewhere nearby reading. There was nothing out of the ordinary – since I’ve known her she’s always been stuck in a book. You’re saying that she was sitting there reading about you – thinking about you…that way and no one noticed anything?”

He mused on this.

“Perhaps Dumbledore may have noticed something was unusual. He certainly responded unusually quickly after I sent her back…”

There was a long pause and Voldemort realised he had unintentionally opened a different can of worms without thinking. He cursed himself inwardly.

“what do you mean…sent her back?...”  
the self-recriminating tone was all but gone, replaced with the suspicious and angry one again.

He needed to think.

“we can discuss it at length after I have given her the potion. I am sure, upset though you are, you do not wish her to suffer permanent nerve damage while you pursue your answers…”

Of course he didn’t. What good little hero could allow his traitorous friend to suffer permanent damage. The feeling in his mind flowed predictably back to self-recrimination and silence while Voldemort retrieved the little potions vial and apparated back to his quarters.

Hermione was wearing a tense discomforted expression, but seemed to be reading relatively contently. Her eyes flicked to him in relief when he reappeared.

He lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed and carefully removed the petrificus, wandlessly enlarging and puffing the pillows beneath the girl to raise her up enough to drink.

“as much as you can, as fast as you can” he reminded her. The tight determined nod she gave all but screamed that she intended to drink a lot more than she had last time, if she could possibly arrange it.

 

 

Harry didn’t know what to think. He seriously had no idea where to begin to deal with what now seemed to be reality. I mean..WTF. On the one hand everything he had known and trusted now seemed to have turned into shit, but on the other hand, possibly…maybe…Voldemort no longer wanted to kill him. That was a good thing, right?? He lay on his back on the bed waiting to hear a voice in his head (but it was ok – there were reasons. He wasn’t losing his mind.) (OK... maybe he was losing his mind just a little bit, but that was understandable, right?)

The one thing he did know was that he had been locked in this room alone for days now and he had been getting to the point where he’d have even been relieved if Ginny came in to lie to him in a Hermione suit again. Then Voldemort had paid attention to him – was STILL paying attention to him. At first he was a colossal dick but he had apologised. OK he didn’t say the actual words ‘I’m sorry I was a colossal dick to you Harry’ - he said it had been childish to provoke him or something like that – which for the man was as close as he probably got to ‘I’m so sorry I was a tosspot at you earlier’. It was still unbelievable.

And he wasn’t lonely right now. He was sad and hurt and confused because it seemed a lot like some of his worst fears actually might be true. Still - at least he knew Hermione was ok…in a sense. Severus wasn’t – but it sounded like Voldemort was working on it somehow or other, which was good. At least he wasn’t feeling that tight sense of panic in his chest at the silence and the lack of information.

Right now he was quietly waiting for Voldemort to come back. He’d closed the connection to go off and talk to some death eater who had been trying to contact him all morning.

But he’d put Harry first.

It was quite a novel feeling to be prioritised.

It had all gone horribly wrong of course. How could it not?! Everything always did. Horribly terribly godawfully wrong – he remembered looking down at Mione on her knees before him - before Voldemort - looking up at him/them with delighted awe-filled eyes as her small hands reached up to the front of his/their robes.

Don’t think about that. Don’t. Just pretend it didn’t happen. Don’t think about it.

It was really difficult not to think about it.

He didn’t know if Voldemort had done it on purpose, but some of the sensation had slipped across the link. Warm, wet, soft…. He’d felt himself harden like a shot of pure adrenalin into his dick. It actually hurt to get hard that quickly.

And his mind was screaming. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to push her off him and cut Voldemort into pieces for touching her. He wanted to drag her away and yell at her – take her to a mind healer – find some way of understanding how she could do that to a disgusting snake-faced psychopath who wanted to kill him. 

Ok - maybe wanted to kill him.

And he couldn’t do any of that because he was god knows how far away at Hogwarts.

Most of all he didn’t want Voldemort to realise he’d gotten hard. He’d never focussed so intensely on anything in his LIFE as he did on shutting down that link.

He couldn’t do it all the way. Not like Voldemort could. He could still feel the man’s emotions. When Harry had told him he was going to kill him – it was really odd the way Voldemort seemed to still. All his vicious smug feelings dropped away to nothing and there was something there that felt a tiny bit like ‘Fuck. Why did I do that?!’.

Harry was himself very familiar with the feeling of ‘fuck. Why did I do that?!’

And then after he’d shut the connection as much as he could there was anger. Or rather - Angersatisfaction. He knew that feeling too. He got it sometimes when Voldemort was cursing some death eater who’d fucked up.

But no one else had been there when he’d left except… 

So he’d opened the connection again and seen Mione ….screaming in pain.

She was…

It was worse than anything. He couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t even describe…

And he’d begged and pleaded and cried.

…and Voldemort had listened and stopped.

Except… it didn’t feel exactly as if he’d stopped because Harry had begged him to. Not really. It was more like he’d kind of been a foggy cloud of loud feelings of angersatisfaction and then he’d sort of woken up at Harry’s begging and gotten more focussed. There were a lot of confusing emotions at once before they’d all dropped down to nearly nothing.

He wasn’t sure that Voldemort had exactly meant to curse Mione. 

Well I mean… he was an unstable psychopath. Obviously. He’d acted really out of control on almost every occasion Harry had met him – and he cursed his own servants all the time for practically no reason, but this was the first time Harry had really thought about it. That Voldemort might be barely in control of himself half the time.

Did he know?

Would he care If he did? Could he even, the way he was now?

Was it because of the horcruxes? Or some other thing or other he’d done to himself to make himself stronger? Was he just always like that?

He couldn’t have been. How did he get through Hogwarts with everyone thinking the sun shone out of his arse?

“…Harry?”

He jolted. Voldemort was back! He’d said he would ‘return soon’ but he’d actually come back in a space of time that could probably be called ‘soon’.

“I’m here” he responded, trying hard not to sound relieved.  
after a moment he added “…is Mione ok?”

“She is as comfortable as she can be at present.” He caught a flash of sensory information showing a stiff figure on a large bed under a blanket with a book hovering above it. 

It left him with very mixed emotions again. Of course it was good she was probably going to be OK. But, he didn’t know how to feel about Mione right now after…don’t think about it… and a tiny awful part in him was a little bit happy that she was in pain, now that he knew it wasn’t going to kill her. How could she just –

Had she betrayed him? He needed to know. 

Not that he could trust anything that Voldemort told him, but right now it seemed like he was giving more honest information than anyone else.

“I need to know – when? When did she… and why?! Really why – not you being an asshole why.”

A long pause, and he wondered whether the other wizard had left again.

“does it really matter, Harry? She is here now. She has chosen to be here of her own volition. It cannot help to-“

“YES!! It really fucking matters. Just tell me!” He glared up at the red curtains of the bed he lay upon. What a fucking ridiculous thing to say – that it didn’t matter?! Of course it mattered. 

“If you insist, we can discuss it further …but I wish to speak with you face to face.”

Harry frowned. “yeah well – I’m locked in a room here and you can’t even get past the border wards, so-“

“impudent as ever…” he heard the man mutter.

And then he felt an odd sensation starting to creep over him. It felt like his body was getting really heavy really quickly. He struggled, trying to lift his hands but they were like lead weights. He couldn’t keep his eyelids open.  
“what’s happening?!! Are you doing this? Are you-“

And then it seemed like he fell through the bed he was lying on, into an unbroken darkness, and the sickening sensation as he plummeted downward made him panic even more. It was like one of those dreams where –

Oh.

Oh!

It was still a bloody unpleasant feeling to be falling and falling in darkness.

Thankfully he didn’t smash into the ground as he sometimes did when he got that sensation and woke up. No…in this case he seemed to slowly turn as he fell, the feeling of queasiness abating gradually, until he floated down gently into a room forming below. As his bare feet touched the rich pile of a thick oriental carpet, the edges of the walls and ceiling insinuated themselves into being in the shadows at the periphery. It was still quite dark, but it was a different kind of dark now. Now it was just the dark of a moderately sized room dimly lit by flickering orange flames in a black marble fireplace.

There were two wingback chairs in front of the fireplace and Lord Voldemort sat comfortably in the furthest one, watching him pensively. His eyes were, as ever, unsettlingly red and shone in the firelight unnaturally, the way that cat’s eyes sometimes did. And, of course, the rest of him looked like the offspring of an alien and a snake, but that was kind of a given in the meantime.

“thanks for the warning” he muttered irritably “I thought you had found a way to kill me through my mind or something”

The monster in the chair tilted his head thoughtfully. “An interesting idea.” He seemed to muse on this for a moment and Harry wondered whether he might have just slit his own throat with his big mouth. Then the ghoulish man smirked. “It is flattering that you consider me so powerful as to be able to kill you remotely with but a thought, Harry. However, you need not concern yourself at present. At best I might be able to toy with your mind until you chose to take your own life. Sit. Will you take tea or something stronger?” 

He gaped, appalled, and immediately tried to cover it with a glare. It didn’t really work, he could see on Voldemort’s face that he was amused again. 

“Then again, if you wish to stand, I shall consider the second chair unnecessary and remove it…”

Harry folded his arms, feeling like a child that was being ‘managed’ into compliance. But then again, if the other chair was gone and he got tired of standing, he’d have to sit on the floor in front of Voldemort. He was SO not going to do that!

Grudgingly he moved closer and slipped into the large smooth brown leather chair.  
It was much larger than it had seemed, he realised when he was seated. And cold. With so much open space around him, it didn’t give the cosy insular feeling he had expected. Instead he felt suddenly very small and powerless in contrast to the tall man across from him, who filled his chair comfortably. He considered standing up again, but that seemed like it really would be a childish thing to do. 

Voldemort was looking at him thoughtfully again.  
“…I had forgotten how small you are... How delicate… It seems your stature is enhanced through the lens of memory. However, I do not wish you to be uncomfortable. I shall change your chair slightly. Remain where you are – it will not harm you.”

Harry bristled over the ‘small and delicate’ comment and the ridiculous idea that Voldemort cared about his ‘comfort’. He was about to retort, when the chair started to ripple and flow around him. At least he’d been warned about it, he supposed. 

When it finished he found himself sitting in a chair that was almost exactly like the chair in the corner of the Gryffindor common room, with broad rolled arms and plush velvet covering. The only difference was that where that chair was red with little ornate gold G’s embroidered all over it, this one was dark grey with little forest green S’s in gothic font. He frowned at it mildly but had to admit it was a better size for him and definitely cosier. Out of force of habit he slouched further down in it, as he always did in the common room.  
“Thanks” he muttered reluctantly.

The Dark Lord nodded but the gesture seemed dismissive. “Tea? Something else?”

“Are you going to poison it? Is that even possible here?”

He was shocked with the other man smiled in amused surprise and then actually laughed. Not chuckled or snickered, or cackled or anything in the spectrum of snide, but laughed because he found something funny. 

“No Potter. It is not possible to poison you here. I cannot stab, garrotte, smother, or incinerate you here. Have no fear. The tea is not real. The chairs are not real. They are just memories or ideas of such. However, would you like a memory of the best tea you have had? Or any other beverage you prefer. I shall be having a 1923 old Ogdens. It was a good year, alas the last barrel was consumed in the early seventies. You may try it if you wish.

Harry became aware that there was a small polished wooden side table next to Voldemort’s chair with a glass of something that looked like firewhiskey on it. He wondered whether it had been there all along or just come into being now.

“a butterbeer then”

This did draw a snort.  
“of course.”

When he frowned, waiting for it, the other man pointed with a clawed finger drawing his attention to his right-hand side, and he realised that he now had a matching wooden side table with a tall frothy mug of warm butterbeer on it. Well – that answered the question of whether the tables had been there all along.

He picked up his drink hesitantly and rested it on his lap in front of him. It looked and felt completely real and solid. This was a memory??! Was it his or Voldemort’s?

“Most of what I can tell you is not from personal experience, you understand, but from the girl’s memories”

Harry’s head snapped up again to focus on the man opposite him, who was now taking a relaxed sip from his tumbler. 

“Hermione. Her name is Hermione”

The wizard nodded mildly. “I have only known her for a comparatively short period. A few weeks. I know from her memories that she began researching me in her second year. An unusually intelligent thing for a Gryffindor to do – Oh do not look at me like that Harry. You know yourself that most of your housemates would be far more likely to leave things to the last minute and rush headlong into the unknown rather than think about dangers that may be past the horizon.”

He agreed privately, though he managed to bite back “my friend Ron is the best chess player at Hogwarts”.

This seemed to give Voldemort pause. It seemed the man might say something, but instead he shook his head. “It matters little. Let us not digress. Hermione began her research in her second year. By her fourth year she was aware of my birth name and a range of other facts and trivia pertaining to my history. Some of these you know yourself and the rest is hardly of much import now. The important point is that she began this research in order to strengthen you. She believed quite firmly that I was not dead and would eventually return to try to kill you once more.”

Harry digested this. It sounded reasonable and like something Hermione would do.

“Why didn’t she tell me – or anyone else?”

Voldemort took another sip from his drink and seemed to think about it.

“I am not certain. I can only speculate that she may have believed that you or Dumbledore would either try to prevent her research, or try to direct it into areas you found more important than whatever facet she was focussing on. Then again – she was twelve…thirteen. Perhaps she was insecure about the value of her efforts.”

He bit his lip, staring down at the carpet in front of him – he would totally have done that. If he’d known, he would have been asking her to research the reason his parents were killed first before anything else. And god only knows what Dumbledore would have had her doing. Probably nothing good.

He looked up, still chewing his bottom lip, uneasy with the realisation, only to find red eyes fixed on him with something like fascination. The look faded almost as soon as he met the other’s eyes and Voldemort was focussed back on the matter at hand.

Odd… He glanced back down at his butterbeer. Maybe the drink was really poisoned, and Voldemort was waiting with baited breath for him to drop dead from it?

“In her fourth year things took a turn. She had discovered my birth name and was researching my Hogwarts years and those that followed soon after. I have left little evidence from that period, but she learned that I had applied to teach at Hogwarts-…”

Harry frowned as the sentence trailed off while the other man looked as if he’d just had a sudden and unpleasant realisation. From the way the red eyes flicked quickly to the fire and then down, and the general tone of the emotions he was getting faintly, he ‘speculated’ that Voldemort was having a bit of an ‘oh shit. I’ve fucked up again’ moment.

“leave the oven on?” he asked, knowing it was a bad idea to poke the bear.

Red eyes snapped back to him angrily and the man’s hand twitched, as if in an aborted motion to draw his wand.

But then the feeling changed. He couldn’t tell what the new feeling was – it was something quieter than Voldemort’s usual moods, but his expression shifted slowly from tense and irate to something like thoughtful and considering. And then it was wiped from his face as if it had never been there.

“it is of no importance” the dark wizard lied blatantly. “Hermione learned that I had applied to teach at Hogwarts. Having some idea of the breadth of my knowledge, and being herself drawn to all sources of learning, the idea of having me as a teacher appealed to her in some ways. With the abysmal quality of Defense teachers over the course of her studies, it is little wonder really.” The thin lips turned down disdainfully for a moment. 

“Some of the defense teachers.” Harry corrected, feeling he owed it to Remus to defend him.

The other man gave a soft snort. “Yes, if you prefer, some of the defense teachers. There is little more effective final exam in defense-against-dark-creatures than confronting a thirteen year old with a werewolf under the full moon.”

Harry glowered at him, but restrained the response he wanted to give, which would probably have included a lot of swear words and arguments about emotions and values that Voldemort definitely didn’t have.

The man’s voice, when he spoke again was soft. Unexpectedly so. And dark, like caramel. “Suffice to say Hermione became preoccupied with the idea of studying beneath me.” 

It was disturbing to see that face and hear that voice, especially with what it was implying. Harry gripped his mug tighter, feeling his shoulders tense as Voldemort continued in that voice.  
“I see that word bothers you. I wish you to understand that I use it intentionally, Harry. I have told you that you would be better leaving these questions unanswered, but you insist you would know, and I have never been in favour of withholding knowledge from any who would seek it.” 

That was ominous. For a moment Harry considered stopping him. Changing his mind. He already had enough of an idea to know where this was leading. Continuing was just rubbing salt into an open wound. 

But red eyes were watching him, warm and full of dark pleasure at his uncertainty. Voldemort’s drink sat untouched on the table as all of his attention was focused entirely on Harry himself.

“I want to know” he said, although it came out closer to a whisper.

Something flickered again in the Dark Lord’s eyes and Harry could feel that he was enjoying this. He was completely absorbed in a quiet, still, low burning kind of emotion. It wasn’t happiness… or triumph… it wasn’t curiosity… It was a little familiar though. Maybe he had been feeling it over the past weeks. The expression on the alien face reminded him more than ever of a snake

Voldemort continued after long moments of watching him. If anything, it seemed that his voice was lower now, more like velvet than caramel.  
“Over time, Hermione’s thoughts shifted…evolved… She stopped daydreaming….fantasising… about attending classes under me, and began imagining ....shall we say – other activities that would certainly see any teacher barred from Hogwarts and shipped off to Azkaban.”

Harry shivered and then hated himself for it. God… He didn’t understand what was wrong with him right now. He was stuck in between wanting to know more and wanting to run away. It was different now. He…he didn’t feel angry right now. He didn’t know what he felt. A bit scared. A bit curious. A bit something else he didn’t want to name. He wished Voldemort would stop using that voice and go back to being a tosspot.

“I am being purposefully vague you understand, Harry. I do not want to cause you undue distress. But if you wish, I can describe them for you in greater detail… I can even …show you, if that is what you desire…”

He swallowed and looked down at his butterbeer, suddenly feeling warmth on his cheeks. Fuck. This was not good. This was very very wrong.

But also… goddamnit. He could understand a lot better what might have happened with Hermione now. 

And he HATED Voldemort. He had every reason in the world to want to stab him in the head and piss on his corpse. Hermione…well… she’d been there for some of it, sure, but she hadn’t ever been personally attacked by Voldemort. She hadn’t lost anyone she loved to him. And she really…. really…. worshipped the library as the centre of the universe. She idolised teachers who knew a lot about their field. She even forced everyone to be respectful about Snape when he treated her like shit.

“N-no… it’s fine. I don’t…”

FUCK. And now he couldn’t even talk properly and sounded like a child. He needed to wake up now and clear his head from this.

Oh god. Could he even do that now? Voldemort had a direct line to his brain now. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how embarrassing it would be if the snake-faced git discovered that he… maybe… found his voice a little… um…  
No way. He couldn’t live with that. That had to be what the arse had been talking about when he said he’d mess with his mind and make Harry want to kill himself.

He jumped about a foot in the air when a hand touched him lightly on the shoulder, his head flying up and finding a familiar-but long-dead face looking at him with a quiet, dark, amusement curling the well-formed cupid’s bow lips. He physically flinched back into the back of the chair he sat in.

“Calm yourself. I had merely wondered if you were quite alright, Harry. I called your name several times but you did not seem to hear.”

Harry gaped and sputtered and couldn’t seem to make himself stop. What the actual fuck was happening?!! Of course he recognised that face. It had been calling down a bloody twenty foot basilisk to kill him. You didn’t forget faces that did that. But it wasn’t the same. This Tom Riddle was older. Not at all a schoolboy. The lines were stronger, the hair longer, the man’s body was… well… a well-built man, not an attractive student. The question was – WHY WAS HE SEEING IT?!

Or maybe the question was – why was he STILL seeing it, since he realised he was still staring. He felt his cheeks practically burst into flame and dropped his head back down in mortification and panic.

He flinched again when cool fingers traced down the side of his face gently, ending beneath his chin and drawing his gaze back up to meet red eyes now aglow with satisfaction. All he could think was that it was a lot less unattractive on this face.

A low chuckle made his stomach twist in exactly the way that it shouldn’t when it came to anything remotely associated with Voldemort – the man who fucked over his life before it had even really begun. The man who murdered his mother in front of him, killed Cedric without a thought. That was the important thing. He needed to focus on that.

“It seems you are indeed as shallow as Severus” the velvet voice hushed at him sinfully. “I had wondered…”  
The fingers below his chin shifted to cup his face lightly, stroking it once twice. He couldn’t seem to make himself move. It had to be a spell of some kind. He just stared at the beautiful face in front of him as if frozen. And then a thumb brushed lightly over his bottom lip and he couldn’t prevent the shudder that ran through him. Couldn’t stop his tongue from flicking out to soothe the pleasant tickle.

He saw heat rise in the other man’s eyes in response. The way his gaze slid down to Harry’s lips.

No. NO. This wasn’t happening. Fucking NO. That was enough!! He had to get out of here.

He batted the hand from his face turning and reaching for the arm of the chair to climb up and out of it, but a hand fell on top of his wrists heavily and when he turned back, struggling to free them, the other hand pushed his shoulder into the back of the chair as Voldemort surged forward, climbing onto it to straddle him.

He pulled ineffectually at his arms, clamped down now at the wrist by a hand that may as well be an iron manacle. 

“Let me go! Get off! What are you-“

The hand on his shoulder moved again, and his breath caught in his throat as it brushed feather light across his chest and then upward, nails stroking teasingly over the vulnerable skin at his neck. He heard himself make an embarrassing whine in the back of his throat and wanted to die. Really – if someone handed him a sword right now, he’d fall on it. How could he enjoy… 

And then the horribly beautiful bastard above him leaned closer, brushing his face against Harry’s own, his lips - his warm breath - at Harry’s ear.

“Shhhh Harry. It’s only a dream… and as any child can tell you - we can do whatever we want in dreams. It is clear that you… want. Why not let go and embrace it? You needn’t be so… alone… so lonely… again.” 

His hips bucked automatically in reaction when the man above him gently ground down against him and he felt a warm hard bar pressed against his thigh

“Stop…” he tried again, desperately, panting and hating how it came out as a breathy whine.

Voldemort drew back with an expression that was different to anything he’d seen on the man’s face before – whether in snake or human variants. He looked hungry, excited, daring. Harry realised suddenly that this was unexpected for him too.  
“You do not really want me to stop. You just think that you should want that.” He punctuated his words with a brush of his lips to Harry’s cheekbone and another slow tantalising grinding thrust. “But tell me. Say it once more. Tell me to stop and never touch you again, and you shall have your wish.” He leaned closer, lingering, beautiful lips parted and breath faster. He looked like sex and death and all things forbidden and Harry wanted… really wanted… to taste his kiss, experience what Voldemort’s hunger could be when his hate was so powerful.

He hesitated.

It seemed to be all the dark wizard was waiting for. Harry gasped as lips fell up on his own, a hot tongue delving, exploring, controlling. His wrists were freed but he barely noticed as the sensation took him of hands moving over his body, stroking and gripping. He felt his robes pulled open roughly and then warm hands gliding over his skin. He moaned into the other’s mouth, finally giving up on thoughts of what he ought to be doing. Fucked up as it was, Voldemort was right. Should was about fifty miles back down the road. 

When he was lifted he gripped at the larger body above him, disorientated, but then there was a mouth at his neck, tongue teasing, teeth nipping tantalisingly and he let his head fall back in pleasure. He could feel a cock pressed hard against his own and it was good. He couldn’t deny it – it was fucking good.

He felt the press of a mattress beneath him and didn’t much care as his hands explored the muscles rising and moving on the other’s back as lips devoured his own once more, the larger body fitting so perfectly into the space between Harry’s parted thighs.. He was strong and he knew exactly what he was doing. He seemed to know what Harry wanted before he even realised he wanted it. A hand tucked into the small of his back, lifting him just that little bit to make everything feel so much…more. 

A tug at the robes on the body above him had them dissolving into air in his hands, and then there was just so much hot skin against his own. So much nicer than the silk had been. God… this wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this, but it was weird that it felt so much better. So much MORE…

Soft grinding against him had him parting his legs wider and he felt the other wizard groan in their kiss. It thrummed against his chest as a soft vibrato. He could feel Voldemort’s emotions and they were on a different spectrum from anything he’d known from the man previously. All hunger and delight and need. There wasn’t a trace of hate or anger.

When a hand reached down and stroked him gently, so gently as if he were porcelain, he gasped and pulled away from the mouth at his own, tossing his head back with a hissed “fuck”.

“yesss… that’s exactly what we’re going to do, Harry. Very soon… but I want to hear you scream your pleasure first. I want you to come apart in my hands…”

The hand on his cock was slicker now, but it was all vague to Harry. All he knew was the unstoppable imperative of his body, as he bucked and writhed, moaning and wanting…  
“please…” he whispered. “please…”, receiving a gentle bite to his jawbone in answer. He could feel hot breath fast against his neck and all of the wild horses in the world couldn’t have pulled him back from the edge as he tipped with a breathless cry into bliss that seemed to last on and on, washing over him in waves.

He cracked his eyes just in time to see Voldemort lift his hand to his mouth and lick away a run of pearly white on the back of his hand with visible enjoyment, his red eyes trained on Harry’s own. The sight caused a sudden aftershock of pleasure to tremble through him and he told himself that the sound he had made had been a moan – a manly moan – and not a mewl at all.

He was still coasting on the afterglow, limbs like noodles, when he felt warm hands cupping him beneath his knees and lifting. Opening his eyes once more he was transfixed by his enemy – scratch that… possible former enemy. His body was…perfect. God… he was fucking gorgeous. Why would he have turned himself into a snake mutant when he could be this?! 

His mind vaguely made the mazed connection that his legs were being lifted and tossed over the other wizard’s arms. His hands were gripping Harry’s pelvis, fingers flexing and caressing his skin soothingly, his expression was satisfaction and anticipation in one. He was going to fuck him. Yes. He’d said he was. And this was a dream and he was curious what it would feel like to do it. But something was missing. He’d gotten this far with Severus – would have gotten further if not for… everything. Don’t think about it now. Severus had been stretching him… preparing him. None of that seemed to be happening now.  
Severus had been pretty clear that it would hurt if he wasn’t prepared. That it would probably hurt quite a bit at first anyway, but that preparation was important.

He twitched and tugged at his legs, pushing at the bed and trying to drag himself backward.  
“Wait… stop… you need to-“

And then the gorgeous bastard kneeling between him, thrust forward and Harry yowled in shock.

Oh god oh god oh god… it felt so fucking FULL. He felt fucking odd. 

But, he realised, there was no pain. 

A soft laugh drew his eyes back to the red ones above him, the bastard now leaning over him, balanced on one hand on the mattress next to his shoulder. He looked entertained.  
“I see you thought I planned to tear you apart? To hold you down and force you open?” He smirked again darkly. “That can be enjoyable too. Perhaps on another occasion I might show you...

Harry froze. Another occasion? They were going to do this again? What?! Voldemort shifted slightly and he couldn’t escape the awareness of the man’s cock, buried balls deep in him, stretching him to fullness.

“I suspect you will take to it like a duck to water.” The dark wizard purred above him, leaning down further to brush the tip of his nose up Harry’s neck, then retracing the path with the tip of his tongue, making him shiver again. Harry’s hands came up automatically to wrap around his neck, as if to keep him there, and he moaned when the heavy organ in his ass twitched and seemed to throb like a second heartbeat. Voldemort turned his face slightly, his lips brushing against Harry’s ear. “I could see it when I restrained you in the chair – there is a part of you that thrills in giving up control. That revels even in pain under the right circumstances…” he laughed softly, darkly, drawing back again. “But you need not worry about that tonight. This is a dream Harry. Your body is no more real than that butterbeer was. There will only be pain if I wish it – and tonight I want to watch you writhe beneath me in pleasure.” 

He felt the slow aching withdrawl of the hot bar stretching him so wide, and held his breath, despite the somewhat unsettling reassurance the other man had given him. Then it slammed home again – hard - and he saw stars. He was already panting and felt himself tremble as Voldemort drew slowly out of him once more. The second thrust pulled a yowl from him as it seemed to punch directly into some place within him that felt like nothing had ever felt before. And fuck it felt good. He looked up, shocked, into the gorgeous knowing smirk. 

“Like it?...” he purred, and Harry could only nod helplessly, unsure when he’d moved to wrap himself around the other, hands gripping at powerful shoulders. At his response the dark wizard’s smirk widened into something more feral, his eyes piercing Harrys own  
“Good… Because having tasted you, I plan to have you in every way I desire. And while the pleasure is real, this body will not fatigue as a physical one would – although there may some after effects, of course. …I do not expect you’ll be walking far tomorrow when I am finished with you...”

Harry swallowed, unsure whether that thought was fucking hot or utterly terrifying, but it didn’t matter because Voldemort was already drawing back from him, his hands sliding down to grip Harry’s pelvis hard, in a way that suggested ominously that the ‘real’ act would be starting now, and that he would not be releasing him even if he begged.

The rest of their coupling was just a blur for harry, made up of his moans and cries and clinging, scrabbling at the sheets, completely beyond controlling himself as the other man drove into him over and over; as he turned and manipulated him at his pleasure, forcing him onto his knees and driving him hard into the mattress, pulling his pleasure from him mercilessly until he screamed and sobbed. It was beyond words. He wanted to die on the end of Voldemort’s cock. When he came for what had to be the sixth time, the world abruptly seemed to grow dim as all of the energy seemed to seep from his body. He only barely glimpsed the panting delight of the other wizard’s face changing first to dismay and then infuriated realisation, before everything had slipped away completely.

When he woke and cracked his eyes open, he found himself thankfully alone in his room. The night was pressing against the glass of the window and he felt like he’d been run over by a very large truck.

Fuck.

Well. That was… not any of the things he thought might happen during a conversation with…

Oh shit.

Just thinking about the man made it clear that everything was different now. He’d said it was just a dream – but it wasn’t really, was it?! Not completely. Not if you shared it with someone else. Not if you did…that.

He didn’t know whether he wanted to talk to him right now and try and work out what the fuck happened, now it had happened, or never talk to him about it at all ever, in any way. 

Either way though, he had no doubt that things had changed forever.


End file.
